


Dark Side of the Moon

by Prettyburgerprincess



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Pack Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Teen Wolf (TV), Runaway, Some suicidal thoughts, Weird Plot Shit, kidnap, magically induced sex vibes?, wolf lore heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:12:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 113,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyburgerprincess/pseuds/Prettyburgerprincess
Summary: A mating run that is instigated against everyone's will - three Alphas being puppeted by some Beta trash POS?Unheard of.Now with an Alpha who means to keep her, Caroline has to navigate the arduous line between her humane brain, her gut's instinct and her heart's conflicted voice.Will she continue to run and try to fight, or are the odds just \so\ not in her favor?
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 182
Kudos: 172





	1. Hunger

Caroline had been... scared, _Before_.

Near misses in her car, surprise spiders in the shower, the heels on her shoes giving a wobble when she was hosting. She'd been especially scared whenever there were Red or Black alerts; werewolves or vampires spotted prowling around Mystic Falls. Her heart would lurch up into her throat and she’d think_ please be okay, mom_.

She knew, just as well as anybody, the kind of fear that yanked at her heart and made her body jolt all over, the kind of fear that made her usually sharp brain dumb, and time slow right down, drag out seconds into hours.

But this kind of fear was what she considered _After_.

She had just gotten back home after an expedition at Bonnie’s, and made something to eat for herself when the hair stood up on the back of her neck. And usually this was pretty remedied by turning on all the lights, but not this time. She felt watched, despite knowing she was alone in the house.

But that was only as far as she knew.

And evidently, she hadn't been. She remembered keeping the door open while she showered, staring at it while she washed herself, scrubbing in too hot water and forgoing shaving her legs in her haste to get back out.

She'd dried off, tucked the towel tight under her arms, stepped out into her room with cute lil’ cupcake pajamas in hand-

And then, nothing.

Caroline checked and found that yes, someone had pulled on her underwear and a sportsbra under her selected sleepwear, and for some reason that made her exceptionally hivey against the blur of confusion. She was next to frozen on cold floor with a smattering of compressed and sad looking hay, in the dark, with no recollection of how she got there – but someone had dressed her to be there.

Above her, there was an open roof. She could see dark branches against the navy sky, the moon hanging heavy and full, directly above her head. It was the only light she had, but she made out what appeared to be four walls and -

"Lydia?" she panicked, a little.

Her friend was sprawled out in a honey coloured satin gown, a robe hanging off her shoulder. All her beautiful red hair was spilt around her head like a bizarre pillow. But what scared Caroline, aside from her apparent milk-white pallor and twitchy eyelids, was the collar around her throat.

It was leather, padlocked into place.

Caroline tried to get up and her wobbly joints made her crash to the floor twice before she could scramble upright enough to go to the girl’s side. 

"Lydia! Lydia, wake up!” She shook the girl’s pale shoulder and wondered if she had always looked so deathly. Usually, Lydia Martin was every inch a well-dressed, well put together little socialite from Beacon Hills; she and Caroline would’ve made great friends if they weren’t such fantastic enemies. “Lydia, beauty sleep is over! Wake _up_!"

Her lashes fluttered and she stirred with a small frown, a line between her brows as she blinked into wakefulness. Her hands curled and for a second, they curled over Caroline’s wrists, soft, inquisitive.

Then she shoved, and Caroline fell.

"What are you doing?" the red head demanded, pulling the robe together around her throat. Her eyes darted, and her mouth popped open as she got gracefully to her feet. "Oh, no. No, no."

"Do you know -?" Caroline started shrilly, then put a hand to her own throat. "Oh, God. I- Oh God. This isn't - tell me, tell me this isn't -"

"This is," Lydia confirmed, looking frightened, and confused. "We're being… this is an abduction. They want us to _run_. Someone wants us to-"

“Oh my god, what Saw five _hell_?” Caroline said, her eyes landed on something behind Lydia’s back. Considering they had been sleeping on packed dirt and only wore things from their own homes, it was almost a surprise to see an old TV - one of the ones with thick backs and static-y screens. It was mounted on a trolley – the exact kind as the one from her pre-school - with a sticky note that had a thick, blocky writing on it.

'PLAY ME'

Lydia, seeing her expression, whirled to see the screen. She took a sharp breath in, looked back at Caroline, and swallowed.

"Maybe we shouldn't?" she whispered. "Let's just figure out where we are-"

"Are you fluent in astrology?" Caroline demanded, and pointed to the roof. "Because that's what we've got to get home with. I didn't exactly get to stash my phone anywhere."

"I know_ enough_," she snapped in return, and looked up, eyes narrowing. One tear leaked out and slid into her temple, disappearing into her hair. She batted at it with impatience. The momentary shock had made her cry - but even in control, she trembled, reading the heavens like a book.

"Do you see anything?" Caroline said quickly.

"We haven't even left the state," Lydia muttered, and lifted a hand, circling a constellation Caroline didn't know with a forefinger. "That's usually above my school. If we head in that direction, we'll break onto school grounds, which boarders on the forest. And it's human territory enough that whoever wants to chase us will have to give up."

"If we make it," Caroline pointed out, and looked at their feet.

Lydia’s, in soft, mostly decorative slippers, the kind that hooked around the back of the heel with a fluffy strap. Her own toes were bare, purple and visibly veiny with cold.

"We can get out of this. It's been done before," Lydia said flatly.

"Six times in twenty years," Caroline reminded her. "The survivors were equipped and fully dressed. Besides, we were taken from our houses. That's not regular wolf behavior, is it?"

Lydia chewed her lip. Even cold and frightened, she looked all kinds of sweet and beautiful, and if Caroline fluffed her hair a little that was _her business_. Fear made her insecure and her stupid rear its ugly head, okay? She would examine it _later_.

"Organized," Lydia muttered, and looked back to the television. “It’s too organized…”

"We should watch it," Caroline said, rubbing her arms for a little extra warmth. "If anything we might get a clue about what they really want.”

“We know what they really want. They want us to run in some archaic wolf moon tradition,” Lydia said.

“It's just a movie,” Caroline mentioned. “It can't hurt."

"No, but it could do something, Scare us, maybe. Get the adrenaline up, the heart rate going." Lydia combed out the straw from her hair with her fingers, looking thoughtfully around. 

"My heart rate is going," Caroline muttered, and shivered, looking around to see if she couldn’t spy a stray weapon. There was nothing there – the barn was completely stripped of any of the uses it had been used for previously; the only thing in there was the TV, leading to a plug on the wall that had clearly seen better days. "Listen, if you don't want to watch, that’s fine. But I’d rather know what game I’m playing."

Lydia tied the sash of her gown around her waist, straightened her shoulders, and marched to the screen before Caroline could, pressing the small triangle button to play.

The DVD was unfortunately low quality. Grainy, with bad sound. Which was obviously the least of her problems, sure, but she couldn’t help but notice.

"Good evening." The man on screen had glowing yellow eyes, but they weren’t all wolf – they were rimmed in black, making him look much more like a monster than Caroline had ever seen a wolf look. It was too close a picture to see anything but him and the back of a high armchair. "I'm so glad you're finally here."

"Is that-?" Lydia whispered, inhaling hard.

"Mr... Tanner?"

He had been a substitute teacher of the epically bad variety. Every school in the district dreaded having him. He demanded silence, gave out too much work and graded impossibly hard, and somehow got himself invited to a bunch of social gatherings to further berate his students to their parents without prompting.

"My name is John Tanner, perhaps you recognize my face from your school. I should hope most of you do, but then again, my goal was to blend into human society. I won't be too badly offended if you don't."

Caroline was very glad when Lydia reached to her hand and linked their fingers. To show her support, she gave the shorter girl’s fingers a quick squeeze, and felt it returned.

"You must be concerned. Don't be. That was not the purpose of bringing you here. Allow me to show you, what I'm affectionately calling your very own...heh... Hunger Games."

"I’m so spooked," Caroline said.

“I feel that,” Lydia murmured.

"For months, I studied all six of you. I found you wildly entertaining for one reason or another. Your own little _packs_. Little _mates_." He made cutesy noises, and his eyes flashed. "I found it slightly more impressive than the rest of the school, and thus, you were my chosen few."

He pulled his upper lip up in an ugly sneer.

"If my timing is correct, you should all awaken at roughly the same time. Then, it will be game on. The game is this; I have three pairs of you at three different points in the... arena." The show of teeth was more distracting in grossness than threatening, but Caroline couldn’t place what was wrong with his eyes. Why were they black on the outside? It wasn’t _right_. "You have a, theme, shall we say, per pair, something valued in my society. Strength. Bravery. Intellect."

"Two guesses what we are," Lydia said under her breath.

“… I don’t feel very brave right now,” Caroline admitted.

“We’re the smart ones,” Lydia pointed out.

“Oh.”

"This is a Hunger Games, if you will." His lips curled into a cruel, frightening smile. "And thus, I have, upon your allotted waking time, unleashed three Alphas in the immediate vicinity."

Caroline’s whole world zeroed into that one sickening moment. Lydia leaned heavily against her shoulder, and she could hear the red head’s terrified breathing.

"One who values strength. One who values bravery. The other, who values intellect. Here's hoping you all match up. It'd be such a shame to see you all bitten and culled if you don't," he cooed, then lowered his head, the light reflecting strangely on his eyes. "There is a chance of you making your way to safe territory - you should all know it by now. You may survive. It _has_ been done before."

Caroline wet her lips.

Lydia held her breath.

"But then again..." The man leered. It was ninety per cent more wolf than man. "There's a significantly bigger chance you won't see the sun up."

In the distance, there was an ungodly howling, matched only by a closer roar that made Lydia's arms shoot around Caroline’s waist. She held onto the red head in return, looking up at the sky through the roof, seeing the entirety of the moon mocking her from the sky.

It would be midnight, if they were lucky. The sun wouldn't come up for another five, six hours. The sun would make the Alphas more lucid... but it didn't guarantee them safety.

"So, as they say..." The video nearly cut out, warping with age. When it came back on, the wolf was shifting, his face distorting, becoming heavier, hairier, toothier. "May the odds be ever in your-"

Another teeth rattling howl made the words seem distant.

Caroline hugged Lydia a fraction closer, pressing her cheek to her beautiful red hair, glad that she was squeezing hard. It made her feel better, more in control.

It was known that werewolves staged 'mating runs' on full moons... but not like this. Usually, humans were plucked randomly off the street and put in collars, kept in dark rooms and then let out into a wooded area. The Alphas would go for the chase, and if a human weren't claimed or offered the bite... they were killed.

"We can make this," Caroline promised her friend, low. "The odds aren't in our favor, but we have a direction. We have a little time. We can do this."

Lydia took a second, shivering, her body heat making goose bumps break out on Caroline’s bitterly cold skin. There was a long second where they just - processed, adjusted, and accepted, it - and then Lydia was pushing away, this time taking hold of Caroline’s biceps with fierce determination in her eyes.

"Six in the last twenty years have made it back alive," she said firmly. "We're gonna make it eight."

"What about the others?" Caroline said. "We could round them up, use all our combined-"

"Forget the others. It's too big a target."

"The three Alphas won't think so. They'll challenge each other for the right to claim the humans, and while they fight, we all run. Then we know where they are-"

"It will take too much time," Lydia said, and nodded slowly. "It has merit. If the opportunity presents itself, we can reconsider. But right now, it's you and me against the world."

"Alright, Katniss," Caroline quipped, quirking his mouth.

"Psh," Lydia scoffed. "I'm Peeta. You're Rue."

"I'm-... not a little girl," Caroline protested weakly.

"No," Lydia agreed, and took a step back. "But you've got big puppy dog eyes and you're going to play this smart. Peeta camouflaged and hid - Rue climbed trees. You know what's good about climbing trees?"

Caroline paused to think.

"Vantage point," she offered.

"And it confuses the scent," Lydia confirmed.

"And-" She held up a finger between them. "It takes the wolf out of its natural landscape. Wolves belong on floors, not in trees."

"So aside from having a more level battle ground, we'll have a heads up." Lydia popped the 'p'. "Because there's no way an Alpha in full shift can sneak up a tree without breaking a branch."

Caroline cracked a sudden grin.

"We've got this," she said. "We're the intellect. They're just instinct on steroids."

"Don't count those chickens yet, honey," Lydia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "It’s going to be a long night.”


	2. Games

First problem; it was bitterly cold. Vaguely, Caroline remembered from some bizarre book that the cold was supposed to encourage thought clarity. But whoever said that had clearly never been down to their pjs in the wilderness, running from a big bad wolf (or three).

Second problem; lack of shoes. Lydia's little kitten heels kept slipping on branches and sticking in the earth, but bare feet would leave a scent trail. Caroline’s bare feet, in addition to leaving a markable scent, were in varying stages of wear and tear just before they got to a high tree with thin, but supportive branches.

Third problem; every noise was an Alpha. Every breath was an Alpha. Every shadow was an Alpha. They could hardly focus for fear, and it wasn’t just making them stupid, it was making them impulsive.

And Caroline was just a lowly human, but her guess was that, even without a fear sweat? She'd be reeking peachy keen for a wolf to pluck off the ground and gobble up. And she knew without a doubt, if she went down first? Lydia would run for her life - use it as a distraction get to safety.

Hell. If the situations were reversed, Caroline would do the same to her.

The climb up the tree was fairly quick. They saw lights in the distance - searchlights in the skies, ones dotted in a neat line that separated human from wolf for those without the nose to tell. Faintly, sometimes washed away in the wind, they could hear the low drone of an alert throughout the compound.

"They know we've been taken, and what we've been taken by," she said, leaning across a branch, her teeth clicking from unwanted shivers.

"They're saying it's a drill..." Lydia replied in a hushed whisper. "To lockdown in the event our boundaries are crossed."

"Yeah, of course they are." Caroline nodded to herself. "If they let the people know, they'd cause a panic, when there's no wolf in the property anymore but there needs to be an awareness elevated. My mother is the sheriff, remember? She told me."

"But how can you tell?" she hissed. "It's the same alert we listen to when there's actual drills! Or is it always a proper alert, and no one tells anyone?"

"No, no, that'd be a gross misconduct of police power," she scoffed. "Listen. There's no pause between the loop on the alert, it's constant, can you hear?"

Lydia swallowed, muttered the affirmative.

"It's to let all security, all law enforcement know, that it isn't a drill. When there are pauses, it's a drill. It's a subconscious calm. But the urgency of the repetition makes civilians alert."

"Basic psychology.” Lydia nodded. "I should've noticed."

"You might've," she replied lightly. "If it had happened in recent memory. The last real alarm happened when we were like, six."

Lydia shrugged, huddled into her robe, and looked around. Her hair was an excellent gauge for the wind, so they stayed there for a while, letting the breeze carry their scent in the wrong direction to what they were travelling.

Thankfully, most of their obstructions in the trees were only more branches, and not leaves. Even if the cold was heinous on their bodies, the fact that they had good visibility was paramount to survival. They basked in a still moment, feeling a little safer, then looked at each other and with a solemn nod, started climbing down.

"We should look for water," Caroline said as they climbed. She was very careful not to cut herself on branches, particularly careful with her bare feet. "Or mud. I'll mask most of my feet."

"We can cover them in leaves, make a sole," Lydia replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "We've got a long walk ahead of us."

"Walk?" she cocked her head, reaching the ground first.

"We jog, we sweat. We jog, there's noise. We jog, we're caught," Lydia said firmly, dropping down to the earth. "We're walking."

"Good assessment, all in all."

They flew to each other like magnets to cling as Mr. Tanner and his _wrong_ black and yellow eyes made themselves known. He stood with his hands up in a show of good faith, but the teens weren’t at all put at ease.

"You'll never get away with it," Lydia told him, haughty, despite looking terrified out of her mind.

"Why? No one knows who I am. I am a Beta with no Alpha to keep me in pesky lines." He smiled wide. It was horrific. "Now. Your sponsor, for being so clever. If you walk in that direction, you'll come to a tree splattered with blue paint. In it, a pair of toasty warm jackets for you both." He pointed in the opposite direction of the wind, away from their intended goal.

"And why should we trust that?" Caroline said slowly.

"Because I have good money that says you two will come out of here without being mauled or dead. You know who's already earned their sponsor? The rather noble little Allison. A bow and ten arrows, won by our resident Katniss."

Caroline glanced at Lydia, who had gone very, very still.

"Allison was going mountain climbing with her grandfather this weekend," she said tightly. "She won't even be back until late tomorrow. If you think you're playing mind games by naming a friend-"

"I'll name them all, if you humor me and go to the tree." His eyes flashed, and Caroline found herself angling in front of the redhead, trying more to make her shut up than to physically protect her. "I think it might change your little 'us against the world', indeed."

Lydia set her jaw.

"You’re lying," she said. "You’re lying to throw us off course."

"I'm not."

"Well how do we know-..." Caroline forgot words, when those bright yellow eyes flicked to observe her. She knew the wolf could hear how her heart thrashed in her rib cage. It felt invasive. "How do we know the jackets aren't... heavily scented? Or... fluorescent, or something?"

"They are your jackets. The scent is already yours. If you leave them for an Alpha to find, they will hone into you any way. But, by all means, freeze. When you're attacked you will discover how hot a wolf body burns."

He took steps away, still in a suit and tie, causally sauntering into the darkness until he blended into the woods and out of sight.

"I do have high hopes for you two," he told them from the shadows. "I'm rather attached to the intellectual stigma, myself. Do what you will - there are more sponsors to be earned yet, and those Alphas prowl ever near."

For a few solid seconds, they held tight to each other and said nothing, straining ears and eyes to listen.

"Not everyone knows Allison is handy with a bow and arrow," Lydia said quickly. "And she said she was going to text me Friday night. When she didn't I just assumed the reception was bad, in the mountains..."

"You couldn't have known," Caroline soothed.

"No, I really couldn’t have." She swallowed, glancing around them. "But neither could he. The Argents are incredibly anti-wolf, and he's been out of my school for weeks."

"Probably setting this up," Caroline said, and rubbed her eyes, sighing hard. "I think... we should go to the tree. He's - pretty stuck, on the Hunger Games thing. Maybe he's going to play by the rules. Even our odds."

Lydia pursed her lips before nodding her agreement, beginning to tread carefully in the darkness toward where he'd pointed.

"Well, we're going to find out," she muttered.

They crept, keeping off trees and steering clear of branches, taking care to brush dry leaves back over their tracks instead of taking precious time to fuss with the dirt. The longer they walked, the more they fell into themselves, running on all systems go-go-go, planning and thinking so hard they nearly passed the promised boon.

The tree was splattered by blue paint - dried, but still very new, in the shape of a bird.

"Mockingjay," Lydia said. "You might be right about his fixation."

"That makes him the game maker," Caroline whispered. "Great. That's just - fan-freakin'-tastic. I almost wish I wasn’t right."

“I don’t remember enough about the movie to be this disturbed. Am I missing something?” Lydia blinked, chewing her lip.

“Yeah. Game makers are twisted and they don’t really want the people in them to win,” Caroline said grumpily, edging around the tree to peer into it, lifting up onto her toes that filled with dirt. There was a moment of total stillness.

“Oh my god, what is it?” Lydia pressed.

"A good call," Caroline exhaled, and pulled out two jackets. Lydia’s was one of the high-tech sports ones with padding and thumb holes – Caroline’s was army green, long to the thigh, waterproof and sturdy.

They dressed quickly, looking around. Thankfully, Caroline’s coat wasn't the squeaky kind, but rather the heavy, long wearing type, with wool on the inside. It was a little roomy, and a little long, but she was entirely grateful for the extra inches of length that covered her ass and upper thigh.

Lydia dug her hands in the pockets, turning up a movie receipt and a single throat lozenge.

Caroline quickly followed suit, but all she had was a pen lid and the top half of a playing card. A Queen of Hearts.

"I don't even know why I have this."

Then she remembered - she was with Tyler, they were drinking, walking past parked cars at night. The card had been stuck in a car door, like it had fluttered out of someone's pocket and got snatched up in the teeth of door and car. She had to pick it up, because she was drunk and she didn’t like things out of place. But it didn't give, just ripped in half.

Caroline really hoped it wasn't a foretelling of her evening.

"Archie Andrews," said a voice in her ear. Caroline shot forward, turning around, the card falling sadly to the floor. She searched around desperately, but the wolf wasn't there.

Then Lydia fell back, her robe parting to reveal a length of creamy leg and golden slip, as she scrambled back in the dirt.

Tanner just grinned, standing with his hands behind his back, leering.

"Betty Cooper. Matt Donovan."

"Lydia!" Caroline shrieked, and the redhead screamed, as the wolf shot toward her, yanking her from the ground, nursing her to his chest with a low growl.

"Allison Argent. And you two." He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and tugged, then let her go. Caroline grabbed the back of her robe and pulled her up, swinging her around behind her. "Makes six."

The wolf licked his lips and stood slowly, golden eyes flashing.

"I told you, if you humored me..." he said, prowling forward. "Scream again, sweet girl. It sounds so good."

Close, too close, an Alpha roared.

The wolf startled, spun to look, which was when Caroline started shoving Lydia.

"Go, go, go! Run!"

"But-"

"RUN!" Caroline demanded, grabbed her elbow, taking off in a bolt. They'd been so _careful_, then so stupid! Tanner had goaded them, made them scared enough to be dumb. That was their strength and he knew exactly how to strip it from them.

But once she started to run, it was all she could do to remember that she wasn’t supposed to be running. Running was a Bad Idea. Not just for the scent it would leave, but for the fact that it was basically a surefire way to _turn the Alphas on_. She was dodging between trees, feet tearing, and burning, so intense after one particularly stupid rock that she fell to her knees, skidding on all fours.

"_Caroline_!" Lydia hissed through her teeth. Her delicate little slippers, Caroline noticed, were gone. The red head grabbed her jacket and hauled her up; then she was pushed really hard, and they toppled, bouncing together hard.

The cold puddle splashed up one of Caroline’s sleeves, which – ew, gross - and Lydia scrambled to shove both her naked feet in the water. Then she was climbing a tree so fast Caroline would've accused her of being on drugs, had she enough breath in her lungs to do so.

As it was, she looked up, saw the tip of a shadow cross her vision. Her entire body went still, her toes curling in the wet, numbingly cold earth. Just over the small valley they'd rolled down, she watched the Alpha move, eyes glowing yellow like candles in the darkness. The carpet of leaves so was thick on the ground it hardly looked disturbed where they had fallen, and she started to pray that the monster hadn’t heard them.

Caroline held her breath, and essentially waited for death.

After five minutes of wide eye watching, she saw Lydia climbing down from the tree. Once on the floor, she dipped her battered feet into Caroline’s puddle, soft toes digging into the top of her foot. She held a finger to her lips, then pointed in the direction they would be walking.

Caroline didn't argue, just nodded, feeling like throwing up but knowing that it was not a good choice to make, when the things trying to eat them were sensitive to smell. She sat, put a hand to her eyes, and screwed them shut, forcibly holding back tears.

She was scared. She was cold. Her feet were stinging.

Lydia's hands pressed against her face, lifting her entire skull so that she could press a lingering kiss to her brow. Caroline took two fistfuls of the robe and hung on, taking in a shuddering breath.

“Thanks for pushing me down a hill,” she breathed.

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re really smart.”

“I know,” Lydia whispered. “We’ve got to keep moving. Slow, okay? Quiet as we can.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Caroline whimpered. It did not sound convincing.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Lydia said, and it wasn’t convincing either.

So they walked. Limped. Sometimes leaning more on their rough heels than to risk ruining the rest of the bleeding extremities, the fragile skin of already torn arches.

"Do you... think it's true?" Caroline said, finally, after too long of silence.

“We have to be quiet," Lydia replied, with no heat.

"He said my friend Matt was in this," she muttered. "And I know… the others."

Lydia swiped under her eyes with her sleeve. They walked for a little while more before she spoke again.

"He only told us those names because if we lead with our hearts, we're going to be maimed, raped, claimed or killed." Lydia glanced at her, beautiful hair sporting several crunchy looking leaves. There was a streak of mud on one cheek, but she wore it like diamonds. Was it any wonder she was dating the entire hunk of man that was Jackson Whittemore? She was a goddess. No one would ever look at Caroline the way that Caroline could look at Lydia. "We have to think logically."

"Logically," Caroline said, sniffing. "So you and I are the brains. Archie is – a lot of man. He’s from Riverdale, right?”

“He is,” Lydia confirmed. “So is Betty Cooper. She has guts. She has to be brave.”

"Also known as 'stupid'," Caroline said without thinking. “Which is where I think he’s put Matt, too. Unless your friend Allison-?”

“Allison is stronger than she looks. She’s a hunter in training. And she has a bow and _ten_ arrows," she said firmly. "There are only three Alphas."

The thought made Caroline smile.

"Besides," Lydia continued, tossing her hair. She combed it out with her fingers, dropping fluttering leaves like butterflies. "Matt Donovan is a good guy. So is Archie.”

“And they’re big and broad and they’re sports guys, so maybe they’ll use their athletic brains to put together a solid plan.”

"Exactly.” Lydia smirked.

“Huh.” Caroline smiled, and fixed it to her face. "If I was a betting girl, I'd say six humans got kidnapped and put in a bizarre mating run tonight. And six humans will walk out again."

"If I were a betting girl," Lydia lied though her teeth. "I'd take those odds."

The easy banter was enough to keep them moving when everything in Caroline complained to stop. They walked and walked and walked, keeping quiet, keeping eyes up and around.

Then they saw a tree splattered with a dull orange mockingjay, and they glanced at each other, before going to it.

Inside was not what they wanted. It was Allison’s archery arm guard and a pair of boxing hand wraps. She pulled one out and turned it over to see a sharpied name on the label – Archie Andrews.

That meant that Matt was paired with Betty Cooper. Caroline put them back, looking out into the forest, feeling her lip quiver.

This sort of confirmed it. If Tanner had their clothes as a sponsor, why not take another team's items for them?

Caroline didn’t say a word. She took Lydia by the hand and kept walking.


	3. Gotcha

It had been over an hour since they'd begun - both too small and too long an increment of time to think of being lost with Alphas actively trying to sniff them out.

They'd been wondering on until Caroline got anxious about their direction, and they shimmied up another tree to make sure they were headed the right way. And they were, if not slightly veering to the side. They were just about to climb down when they heard a roar, far off in the distance.

Then the trees started collapsing, parting like the Red Sea. Mortified, they watched, as a large dark bulk lept up high - two pinpricks of yellow throwing the moon light - and brought claws down hard. There was another horrifying roar, then another dark bulk jumped, lifting claws as if to swipe down.

Two Alphas started to brawl in the treetops.

The two humans braced, mouths open in shock. Stupidly, Caroline thought that if she was still, they wouldn't see her.

(It wasn't until much, much later, she realized he was thinking of T-Rexes and not werewolves. And she was supposed to be the smart one?)

There was a growl loud enough to carry the distance between them. One bulky mass shimmied like a cat about to pounce, and pushed off, galloping awkwardly across the trees.

"Fuck," Lydia said. It was a perfect summation of the situation. She started climbing down.

Caroline on the other hand, sort of... fell, rather than climbed, banging the backs of her elbows, both knees, and hurting her feet on the harsh bark. Somehow, she was closer to the ground than Lydia was when she decided to drop the few extra meters to the leafy floor.

But her feet never touched the ground.

She was bawled over, tackled midair. She never ever saw it coming, didn't hear it, didn't know about it until the Alpha was breathing hot and heavy in her face, baring inches of gnashing teeth in her eyes. It wasn’t even the one that had initially been chasing her – that one was still making branches creak and snap under its weight above her.

Ever elegant and articulate, she blurted:

"I - _what _\- do you even -?!"

The wolf opened its mouth and snarled.

It shook her to the bone. She started struggling, trying to knee it in the back, but when she landed a solid hit, the Alpha responded by snapping teeth so close to her cheek a stray fang scratched her.

She yelped and struggled against it - at _him_, if the hot and stiff muscle pressing against her leg was anything to go by. She didn't try to hurt him again.

Caroline couldn't see Lydia - where was she? Was she safe? - but she could see a moderately huge rock on par with her skull. She wrestled free an arm, picked it up, and smashed it down on the wolf's shoulder, making it snarl and bite her arm.

The heat was intense, and she was so surprised it almost didn't hurt. For a long second, she felt her thrashing heart throb against her ribs, looking stupidly at the teeth in her forearm. She watched a dribble of blood roll out from a sharp canine and drip from her elbow in utter shock.

She dropped the rock on the back of the wolf’s head, and he bit her again.

The fangs punched through her flesh deep enough to scrape against her bones. When the wolf let go of her arm, it dragged a thick, coarse tongue over the gushing points of blood. It congealed somewhat, but still bled sluggishly.

Caroline, still in total in shock, just stared at him.

"Ow," she said, and gulped. "That hurt..."

The Alpha flipped her over. A wet nose bumped the back of her head, and the hot breaths poured over her nape like steam out of a kettle. The jacket was shoved up under her armpits, her spine bare.

The Alpha put teeth around the back of her neck.

Caroline tried to push back up, but he put one huge paw on her shoulder and shoved her back down. She lost her breath, scrabbling in the dirt, trying to find a purchase to get up, get out, to run away. When he only knocked her down again, she grabbed a handful of Alpha scalp from behind her head and _yanked_, but that just earned her a bite on the shoulder, a sharp nip that made her yelp.

"HEY!" shouted a voice, and Caroline lifted her head, hands fisting in the dry leaves and dirt.

The Alpha growled at the intrusion, rumbling above her like an engine.

"Lydia!" Caroline cried, and dragged in a breath.

"_Leave her alone_!" Lydia demanded, holding a thick branch, a sharp end pointed at them both.

"Lydia, run!" Caroline repeated desperately, and shoved up, unsettling but not dislodging the wolf as her back bumped into his hard front. He was very, very hot to touch. So hot against the freezing air that it was almost hard not to press against him. "Go!"

"No," Lydia said, and hefted the makeshift spear up onto her shoulder. "I'm not-"

There was another growl, somewhere from behind Caroline. The Alpha above her echoed it, biting Caroline’s nape, lifting her like a mother cat would lift a kitten as he stood. Caroline scrambled to grab onto something, anything to slow him down, then flailed her legs until the wolf clamped down tighter on her neck and her limbs stopped working.

"Oh my god," Lydia whispered. "Oh my _god_, Caroline, don't fight him!" She was backing away, her spear lifted.

"_That’s easy for you to say_-!" Caroline shouted, her body ragdolling from the neck down. She was horrified to be so out of control, and started to hyperventilate. Why wasn't her body working?

"He won’t kill you," Lydia said through a trembling mouth. "You're going to survive. It's going to be okay."

And it really, really shouldn't have made her feel better, the soothing lull of her kind-of friend’s sure voice, but the fact of the matter was, she was searching for any reason to believe she wasn’t about to be killed.

"Lydia," she said, sounding surprisingly patient. "You need to go, now. Go."

The redhead looked devastated, and it wounded Caroline.

The Alpha growled around her neck, and turned, dragging her limp body by the scruff as another heavier set of thundering footfalls powered past, somewhere distant, but much too close.

The wolf prowled in long strides, on its hind legs so that only her feet were dragging uselessly over the various dry foliage.

Caroline seized up everywhere when he heard Lydia's piercing shriek - the wolf above her made low, gruff noises. Somewhere in the forest, Lydia screamed again, and an Alpha roared.

Caroline’s lips began to quiver, and she sucked back several sobs, unable to trap them in her hands. She let a few stampede out of her chest, overcome with the silence. Somehow, the silence was worse, because she only had hope that Lydia was alive, and no proof.

She was carried across a large length of shallow water - fresh and clean smelling, but freezing to the touch. The wolf stood so that her aching soles rested in it for a long minute, breathing hot air and spittle around her throat, then he dropped her to splash down in the icy water.

The second the teeth came off her nape, she could move, and scrambled across sharp, slippery stones, the water making her twitch and shiver uncontrollably. She fell at the bank and scrambled to get him back in her sight. On ass and hands, clearing the water and backing into a tree, watching the wolf with wide, teary eyes, she waited, hands clasping at the earth on either side of her.

She watched the Alpha go on all fours, tilt his giant head, considering. Then yellow and black eyes went over her entire body, and Caroline shut her knees at him, whimpering when his gaze lingered. The wolf dropped so his massive chest dipped into the water, but ass and tail was in the air. It didn't make a single noise, just waited, watching without blinking.

It took Caroline about two seconds to think of what the hell that playful stance meant. In all the lore, in all the books and studies on Alphas, it was suggested that the mating runs were _fun _for the wolf doing all the chasing. That mating runs were so rarely instigated that they craved to engage in the traditional animal behaviors their hindbrain demanded.

If he was having fun…

Did…?

Did he want her to run again?

"I-..." she spluttered, looked around. "_Seriously_?"

The wolf did nothing. He just waited.

When Caroline slowly pulled herself to her sore feet, he did nothing. When she took one step aside, the wolf huffed, and bared his teeth. He didn’t move, and she swallowed hard.

“Do you want me to run? Is this-? Is th-that what you want? Aren't you going to like... mount me?” she asked, her voice wobbly. He did nothing to confirm or deny. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and winced at the hard scrape of material over her bitten cheek. She swallowed, heart in her throat. “I… I’m going to run…”

She took another two steps to earn a growl, but still no movement. She halted, hands flying to the tree to support the knees that decided they suddenly couldn’t hold her weight; but the Alpha did not move in the sense that he came after her.

His tail, standing tall and proud behind him, gave a little wag.

When she started walking backwards, blindly feeling with her hands for trees, the tail started to sway a little faster.

“Can you give me a-?” she choked, tried to breathe normally, but her heart was beating so hard her brain demanded all the extra oxygen she could get. She lifted her hands at him. “Head st-start?”

His tail wagged a little faster, and the huge head lifted to indicate a _yes_.

So she gave up on pretending to be calm, and bolted.

Feet aching, heart banging, she ran and ran, faster than she thought she could run; even on a good day, her speed was nothing like what she had estimated she was actually capable of. Probably thanks to adrenaline. She didn't take care to be quiet - she was looking, looking for something, anything to help her clobber the beast in the head.

She skidded, ducked under a thick branch she nearly crashed into, and did an excellent impression of a roadrunner. Her legs spun so fast that her feet kicked up leaves and twigs but didn't actually grab purchase on the forest floor. There was a tree splattered with purple paint that she dove for with her hands out, bringing out what looked like Matt’s baseball bat.

She turned with her back to the tree to see the wolf's shadow bounding over a valley for her. When he saw she'd gained a weapon, glowing eyes narrowed and it _snarled_, barreling towards her without a hint of difficulty on the soft and uneven ground.

So Caroline lined up, hands wrapped around the handle - which really hurt her bitten arm - and swung. The wolf easily dodged it, lifting his chin to avoid the blow, making Caroline spin with momentum. But as he bent to bite her again, she shoved the metal bat between the Alpha's teeth and tried to run.

But that was apparently not the point.

A huge paw came down on her back with enough force to knock the wind out of her, laying her out flat on her front. There was a metal crunching noise, and the half chewed bat fell down next to Caroline’s face, as if in mockery. The Alpha rolled her over, pinning her arms with claws, wet nose dragging over her throat.

As soon as she got her breath back, the words kept pouring out of her.

"Oh my _god_!" she exclaimed, sniffing. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-!"

The Alpha's eyes were on her face, tongue darting out to taste her tears. Caroline barely felt it, too scared to do much but turn her head away from him with a pathetic whimper in her throat.

The Alpha’s rough tongue dragged over her throat, and he settled down around her, his weight on top of her body a blessing and a curse. She was so cold, but she didn’t want him to touch her, especially when he had the world’s grossest hard on wedged between their bellies.

The Alpha tilted his head, then slunk down the length of her body, nosing her thick jacket and t-shirt up to dip his tongue into Caroline's navel. It was hot, in the sense that the temperature was next to scalding. She flinched so hard she half sat up, even at the low warning growl.

“_No_,” she said, her voice barely a breath. What really surprised her… and it was the Worst Best surprise she ever had… he _stopped_. Bright eyes flicked up at her, a rough pink tongue peeking out of his mouth.

She was shivering, near pissing herself in fear. She tried to wriggle back but the wolf growled, and she sobbed as claws closed around her wrists. Instinctively, she tried to wrestle out from beneath him, but he bared sharp and dangerous teeth at her.

The Alpha dragged his tongue up the center of her belly, teething lightly at the cup of her bra, then rubbed his face against the bunched material trapped under her arms. Caroline shut her eyes tight. She was going to get raped and die.

A quick look around confirmed that yes, Lydia was long gone, and they were quite alone. There was no one to witness her disgrace and subsequent death, and it made her feel... well, not better, but it certainly gave her one less thing to worry about.

The wolf laid out along her, trapping his hot dick up between them, and rubbed a furry cheek against her own. He eased his grip from one of her wrists; when she didn’t shove him or move, he gave a pleased sounding sigh by her ear and put that free paw on her bare belly.

She made a noise that spoke of her displeasure, and he lifted his head. Staring into her eyes, he stroked up to take a handful of her breast, giving a light squeeze.

An idea crossed her mind. Honestly, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“No,” she whispered.

So he let her go, and put his nose back under her ear, inhaling deeply while the paw went back down to her stomach. He levered off her a little and she had no idea what he was doing until she looked down to see his paw moving mindless and fast, puffing hard against her throat as he jerked a hard slippery cock above her.

“Oh, _ew_,” she said shrilly, and tried to crawl back.

He snapped his teeth at her face and made her give a short scream, then hid his eyes back in her throat, lipping wetly at her pulse.

And Caroline tried, okay. She put her hand up to his shoulder and gave a shove, but he just bit her bicep. She curled her fingers into the fur at the back of his head with the sole intention of ripping out a handful, but the noise he made at that was entirely pleased, and his tongue lapped her arm and made it stop bleeding so much.

After a while, it stopped even being scary, it was just humiliating. When she tried to get away she was threatened by noises. Growly noises from a seriously horny Alpha, who had already demonstrated two instances when he would bite her to get his way. The worst part was Caroline was obeying like she was already his little bitch.

There had been classes about being mated by a wolf when you were a human. Things about knots and how to get away, and how the wolf would almost always take unwilling prey, which is what she expected to happen at any second, given how fast he was jacking the slick, slippery mess of his cock.

He puffed a breath and settled over her heavily like a hairy, breathing, blanket, growling shortly. He was getting close, she could tell, by the determination, the increased pace, and the gruff noises he was making in his chest.

Caroline was hurt - her arm hurt in more places than one, her feet hurt, her head and face hurt too. But the act of him actively laying on her, getting off on her fear?

That is what _damaged_ her the most.

She was useless, completely, totally without a point. What good was an intellect when all she could do was lay there and take it?

With a vicious thrust, the Alpha cocooned her in his giant body, bracketing her arms, clawed digits twining between Caroline's fingers. He growled, went tense, then promptly blew a load all over her exposed stomach. He rocked shortly and the growls wound down into purrs, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft pulsing so hard she could feel it.

She sobbed anew. She didn’t know what this meant, despite her studies. All she knew was, she felt dirty and used, and humiliated and scared. She wiped her face with her muddy, sweaty hand, and then hid her eyes with it. She didn’t want to see what came next.

The wolf made a low, inquisitive noise.

She felt him let her other wrist go, and covered her mouth with it. Her sobbing was coming in full force now, hard and jerky air struggling to fill her lungs. For a long second, the wolf did nothing.

Then she was flipped over onto her stomach, and she shouted in fear. Before she could so much as crawl away he was biting into the back of her neck around the collar. She screamed so loud her voice box broke, making no noise until she heaved a breath in and managed to start again.

Caroline whited out for a while, and fully expected to die when she came to.

The bite had been so hard that her vertebrae had clunked together, and she had clearly served her purpose as the realest Real Doll the Alpha had needed.

So she just - relaxed.

Whatever.

She was still crying, sniffling, and curled both arms around her head, feeling the bite with trembling, filthy hands, until the Alpha nudged her hands away and swiped it with a scratchy tongue.

Caroline kept her head covered, breathing in the musky earth, and wet leaves, trying not to focus on the literal pool of werewolf come she was laying in, splattered and smudged up her front while the wolf hovered over her, huge, hairy body throwing immense heat.

The wolf lobbed her onto her back, and tilted his head, rubbing a hairy face against her side, wuffing unashamedly at the mess he had made. The tongue came out and licked at the slick that had spilled.

Caroline just let it happen. She was tired and scared of fighting him off in the event he bit her again.

The wolf made a low, happy noise, then took the hem of her scrunched up jacket and pulled it back down over her body with his teeth. Never mind half the forest floor that stuck to the come on her stomach and stayed under the heavy material.

He leaned heavily over Caroline, staring without blinking into her face.

And Caroline thought: _Well, okay, I'm gonna die, better make it quick_...

So she offered up her throat, lifting her chin away from the collar.

There was a growl, and she waited, and then she floated. She must've thought she was dead for at least a whole minute and a half, before she realized that no, she was over the Alpha's shoulder. Staring at a round human ass, but a thick, swinging tail, the backs of hairy haunches and the ever swirling leaves as the wolf became a man.

Dully, she became aware that a voice was talking.

"...the remainder of her things loaded into your trunk, Alpha. An excellent choice. Personally one of my favorites in the game, very clever, though you know what they say about blondes."

Caroline wondered if she should be offended.

The Alpha just snarled, and Tanner stepped out of his way, ducking to see Caroline's eyes open.

"Lights on, no body home?" he mused. "That's okay. I must say, very smart, to submit in his own language. I never thought he would pick a human from my lot. Lucky you." The man smiled, and not one inch of it was kind.

That was what Caroline reflected on, upon being laid out into the back of a nice car. It took her a second to register everything, from beginning to end, then lift herself and try a door handle. It was child locked, so she put her head back down and thought about that nasty smile, barely even registering the man that climbed into the car until he'd reached back to touch her face.

She flattened against the back, rocketing up onto a side that complained about being hurt by a stray tree branch. She stared, wide eyed and trembling, at the rather beautiful naked man looking a little lost, his eyes still glowing yellow – marked with something black, something wrong, around the ring of gold - like Tanner's.

There was a long moment where nothing happened, where they just looked at each other.

“You weren’t willing,” he said softly, accent turning on his words. “Were you?”

She had questions. So many questions.

But to answer his, and maybe get a start on some of her answers, she shook her head, expression crumbling as she burst into tears.

He withdrew his hand, and put on the wheel as he started the car, pumping up the heater all the way.

“I’m sorry,” he told the windscreen, and put the car into drive.


	4. Tribute Stats

After three minutes of pants-shittingly fast driving, Caroline's body gave up being too stiff.

The leather was soft under her, and the air warm around her. She was exhausted, and frankly, a lot of that was emotional. Mentally, her brain was running a hundred miles an hour: _could I break the window? Could I survive enough if I hit the road at this speed? Can I recognize where I'm going, or can I study the landscape and remember landmarks to find my way back? _

Without her brain's permission, her mouth asked:

"Where are you taking me?"

"Home.”

Caroline started to tremble again.

"I can go home?" She said, disgustingly hopeful. "I can go back to my mom? Can you drop me at the gate?"

"No." Not even a slight hesitation.

"Or just here. Uhm-" She swallowed. "I'll find my own way."

"No," the Alpha said, quieter. "I didn't turn you. I claimed you."

Caroline lifted onto an elbow, trying to quiet the grunt at the sharp pain throughout her entire self.

"I'm not a werewolf," she said, surprisingly firm. "I can go back home."

"You're claimed," the Alpha said, and glanced back. His eyes darted to the pool of blood under her body, the thick trails of blood and sperm soaking the fabric.

"Claimed doesn't mean bonded," Caroline insisted, working into sitting. "You can't keep me, that's against your laws and not to mention, really freaking rude."

"Lay back down," the wolf said flatly.

"No. I know the law," Caroline protested. "I know that as long as I'm a human, I can cross back into the town. I can go home. Look, just stop the car and I'll-"

The glare was glowing when it flicked up to the mirror.

"Lay back _down_."

Another pause, this one longer.

"The bite?" Her voice was hoarse. "Am I-... Did you turn me?"

"No," the Alpha grunted.

“So I’m a-?”

“You’re mine,” he growled, the noise inhuman in an entirely too human face.

"So what?" She snapped. "You chase me, molest me, and bite me all over, and then what? I’m just supposed to be your gross little chewtoy and be happy about it?”

Nursing her bitten arm to her chest, Caroline crossed to the side furthest away from him and his terrifying glare, and tried the door handle. Still locked, and now the crazy bastard was tipping 160 miles an hour.

“It is not like that,” he said through his teeth.

"So let me go home," she said. "I don't care about Tanner, I don't care about legally perusing you, okay? None of that _matters_. I just want to-"

The tires squealed, and if the smell of burning rubber overwhelmed her for the split second before her teeth clashed together, catching her lower lip in the crossfire. She was thrown forward, skull bouncing off the back of the passenger's seat headrest, while her entire body slipped to pool in the foot space at the bottom of the car. She jolted at the burst of unsavory flavor in her mouth, the taste of hot coppery blood.

Great. Now her everything hurt _and_ her lip was bleeding.

The Alpha did a series of deep breathing exercises, then looked back at Caroline, who was refusing to unball from the bottom of the car. Her hands clamped tightly around the back of her collar, hiding her nape from his eyes.

"Sorry," the wolf offered, and settled a warm palm on the back of her skull.

Caroline whacked it away, but the Alpha growled and put it down again, weighing heavily on her head.

"Get off of me!" Caroline snapped into the safety of her own legs. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Do not speak to me," the wolf said through his teeth, digging the tips of sharp nails into her hair. "Like_ that._"

She shoved his hand up, face flushed as she glared at him. Both hands went to hold her spine, and she realized that there were tears on her cheeks a second after the Alpha's face dropped to see them.

"I want to go home! I want to see my mom!"

"You can call her. Later," he said, and took his hand back to the front seat, putting it carefully on the wheel. There was a moment before the car was moving again. "Sit on the backseat."

"Go _fuck yourself_."

It was stupid, and she knew it was stupid, but she was hurt and angry and humiliated, still sticky with come and leaves and dirt, in addition to all the places she was hurt and bleeding. If she could smell it, the Alpha would be all but marinating in it. Caroline leaned back into the door and the Alpha glanced at her again, before refocusing on the road.

"I'd much rather fuck _you_," he said casually.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Caroline thought about the Queen of Hearts, torn in half. Unwilling to give, and ruined as a direct consequence.

"Don’t be gross," she said primly.

"Then do as you are told." The Alpha's hands audibly tightened, creaking on the leather of the steering wheel.

"I am not some obedient little bitch," she retorted forcefully. “I don’t have to do what you tell me!”

"It would be in your best interest to cooperate," the Alpha said. "Because if you don't do as I_ tell_ you, I'll _make_ you."

Caroline was feeling ill.

The Alpha glanced at her again.

"What's the matter?" He cocked his head, oddly reminiscent of his wolf form. "Wolf got your tongue?"

Her stomach rolled. Caroline was going to throw up in his stupid face the next chance she got. The gurgling of nerves in her stomach made him flick his eyes down at it, and then he looked back out the front.

"Get on the seat," he demanded lowly.

The problem was, she was actually in a lot of pain and couldn’t do as she was told physically. Her feet were still bleeding and the arm that had been bitten felt swollen and hot. Her side was bruised, which made breathing kind of hard.

“I can’t… I’m hurt.”

She opened her jacket to spit the mouthful of blood out into the inner lining.

The Alpha whuffed it, Caroline could hear him sniffing, but didn't say anything. He just started to drive a fraction slower than he had been. The human curled up, rubbing the knob on the back of her neck, heart thudding loud enough for even her to hear. Her collar was chafing the sides of her throat, biting into soft flesh.

"Are you going to kill me?" she muttered into her knees. She wasn't happy with the traitorous wobble to her voice.

He heard the wolf sigh.

"No."

"Were you going to?"

"No." The car took a turn, making Caroline shift. "I was going to mate you."

Caroline went still.

"Mate me?"

"Yes, mate you." The seat squeaked loudly at his heavy shifting around in it.

"But..." She gulped. "Wolves mate for life...?"

"No, we Bond for life, you're thinking of actual _wolves_. Werewolf mates can be as long as the human is marked. Stop rubbing it." Bright eyes flicked into her line of vision, and she put her head back down, still fretting at the bite on her neck. "I thought... I thought you were one of the ones that come through the gate for a good time.”

“A _what_?” she demanded.

“One of the runners,” he muttered. “They come through every full moon. They run in the forests for a chance to be caught and found.”

“Wait,” she said, blinking stupidly. “You’re telling me that… human people… come into the supernatural wing of Mystic Falls… on _purpose_… to have sex with fully shifted werewolves?”

“Every moon without fail,” he agreed.

She laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, okay,” she said, holding her side. “Whatever you say, Mr. Alpha man.”

“It’s true,” he insisted. “Every month there are a batch that come in to run for the chance to be mated. The understanding is that if you are in the woods on the night of a full moon, you are doing it knowing full well it will end in being mated.”

“Stop _saying_ it like that,” she snapped.

“How else am I supposed to bloody say it?” he said sharply. “That’s what it_ is_.”

“Not for me, it wasn’t,” she reminded him hotly. “You- you – you nearly-! You were going to-!”

His shoulders seized around his ears, much too much like the hackles on a wolf.

“I know,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I-… I’m sorry, love. I know. It was – it was a very close call, and what I did to you was… still not kind.” He breathed out, and she watched him, gathering from his expression and the sudden lack of color in his face that the idea of what he had nearly done to her was making him sick.

She huddled into her knees, the light gone out of her.

So he had, then?

Nearly raped her?

“Look, that man left us a challenge at a house with a video. It was a game. It’s always just a game. He told us all that you lot were agreeable to claiming, mating and bonding; that you wanted it rough. That you wanted it real. That you all had safe words to use if you were overwhelmed.”

The car made another turn, now on an incline. Caroline kept her head down and tried to remember how to breathe.

“If you do this every month,” she piped up. “You’ve let humans go back to town before?”

“Yes.”

“So why can’t you let me go?”

“Because I claimed you,” he instructed gruffly.

“When will it go away?” she said, sitting up.

“If I have my way, it won't,” he admitted. He cleared his throat. “But you must understand, it wasn't our fault. The Beta puppeted us."

"The Beta?” she repeated. “Tanner?”

“You knew him?”

“He was one of my substitute teachers,” she mentioned. “He was an asshole. He gave me a D- in Women’s Studies for being _too feminist_.”

“A proper bastard, I’m sure,” he said dryly.

“It’s not funny,” she claimed. “He ruined my GPA. I was nearly perfect.”

“I bet,” was his only reply.

He drove up another, slopier incline, and Caroline rubbed her spinning head.

“So, if he was a Beta, and he – made you do this run,” Caroline said thoughtfully. “Why didn't you rip his throat out when he spoke to you just now?"

"He will be dealt with," he huffed, and his hands tightened on the wheel, making it groan under the pressure. "But he approached me because I had my claimed. If he had've touched you, I would've killed him. But other than that... I wasn't - I'm not -... I _can't_, think straight. I have to take you to the den."

"The den?" Caroline repeated. "As in 'your place of nesting and home activities', where you pile with your pack?"

She lifted her head to see a muscle twitch in the Alpha's jaw.

"I can't help the urges," he muttered.

Caroline could only see trees and more trees out the window opposite her. She could only smell burning rubber, and her own rancid stench of combined things. She could only taste blood, which she hastened to spit into her jacket again, actively rubbing it into the fabric so that it seeped in.

"Why are you saying 'urges' like there’s more than one?" she said slowly.

There was a tense pause.

"... It'd make your life easier if you just accepted them as they come. I can’t help it,” he told her firmly. “I want to… There will be an amount of... scent marking."

"If you're going to piss on me, I will literally kill you," she said flatly. “_Not_ kidding.”

The Alpha twitched.

"Then I won't piss on you. There are other ways-"

"Are you going to bite me again?" she demanded. "Or – come on me, like I’m a filthy rag?"

"Don’t say that,” he scolded. “That’s not what that is.”

“It sure felt like it from where I was sitting,” she sneered.

“Well, I’m sorry for that too," the wolf said, and didn't sound overly enthused, which didn't help Caroline. She wanted him to be a miserable bastard. She wanted him to be angry and mean, not just... sulky. "I understand that it isn't...pleasant -"

“Pleasant?” she interrupted. “You bit me so hard my _bones_ touched!”

“I’m aware,” he muttered. “When the moon is full… when you run… as a wolf, I don’t think quite like a man. And I thought you were into it. You were hurting me. I replied in kind.”

“Because you had me flat on my back-!” she said shrilly. “Because you were going to fuck me!”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s how it usually happens. They come, they run, and we _mate._ I escort them to the gate, they go home. It’s done until the next month, and the next lot.”

“But not me?” she said. She glared at his head, even though her eyes were filling with tears. “I’m still a human, I can still go – you don’t even need to take me anywhere, I’ll find my own way-“

“You’re different,” he insisted. “You’re claimed.”

“So break it,” she sniffed. “I know you can break a claim. Just – just break it, and let me go.”

“It’s not that easy,” he said, and glanced back at her. When he saw she was crying again, his fantastic thick lips pursed into a displeased pout, and he reached back to touch her head.

At first, she thought: _Absolutely not, no way, not happening!_

But when that gentle hand curved around her skull, Caroline felt a wash of peace settle over her. She had opened her mouth to call him a slew of interesting names, but none ever made it past her teeth. She shut her eyes, reaching up to take his wrist, steering his hand to cup her wet cheek.

“When we get to my home,” he told her, voice low and patient. “You may have your things. That man – Tanner, you said?”

“Yeah,” she said, miserably, into his palm. She shut her eyes and held his fingers to the soft skin behind her ear, rubbing her face against his hand.

She couldn’t see the speedometer from her vantage point, but she didn’t need to. The car was beginning to slow down, and significantly so.

“Well, he packed a bag for you,” he murmured. “If you need anything else, let me know, and you can have whatever of mine you like. Until I can trust you to get some of your own.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, almost sleepily.

“It means I think you’ll make a scene if I take you to the mall,” he told her. “And as long as I believe you’ll cry out for your side of the wall, I won’t risk the public with you.”

She frowned. Opened her eyes. Then she pushed his hand away, scowling at him.

He was super naked, lean body corded with well-honed muscle. The hard lines in his belly tensed when he swiveled to look at her, check her face.

The wolf scowled over his shoulder. This time, when he looked down at Caroline, Caroline kept her head up, and stared back. The wolf's eyes lingered on the blood smeared around her lips, the scratch on her cheek, and the large doe eyes blinking stubbornly back at him. Then he sighed, and faced forward.

"We are going to need to share the den."

“The den?” she said, volume pitching. “With your pack?”

“No,” he said. “The den is mine.”

Well, there went what little she knew about the den. All she knew was the den was full of familiar smells - things the pack identified as home, like favorite foods or perfumes - besides their most worn clothes tucked into nooks and crannies, to intensify their scents.

Caroline closed her eyes.

"That's why he took us in our pajamas," she said lowly.

“I beg your pardon?”

"The clothes we're most comfortable in, the ones we probably wear the most. Tanner took us at night, and we were all in our pajamas. The scent would be..."

The wolf sighed.

"Yes. Your scent would be comparable to that of a den, if you had slept and lived in your clothes. Your friend, the girl you were with. Her clothes were new. She didn't smell... appealing."

"But I did?" Whatever her scent was, it'd be strong as it came. Her pajamas were years old and worn in – some of the comfiest she owned. The jacket was her mother’s, and when Caroline missed her particularly badly, or worried about her on a particularly rough shift, she wore it.

"I’ve never scented anyone the way you smell to me," the wolf offered.

Caroline had precisely zero nice things to say about that. She put her head back down. The incline of the car was getting steeper upwards, and her lip wouldn't stop bleeding. She waited, counting the seconds, rubbing the raised areas around the bite on her nape.

The car slowed and the wolf put it into park, shutting the door and disappearing. By the time Caroline had serious concerns about where he was, he was back, fully clothed but barefoot, and opening the car door across from her.

"I know you hate me," he said evenly.

"As long as _that's_ apparent," Caroline retorted.

The wolf's lips pressed tightly together, forming a frown to rival all frowns.

"You’re hurt."

"Ten points to you," Caroline bit back. Then: "What about it?"

"With the moon still full in the sky, there are behaviors I need to obey," he said sheepishly. "I’ll carry you to the shower.”

“What? No,” she said, recoiling into the car door. “No way.”

“Don’t make this harder on the both of us,” he demanded. “I don’t want to _force _you to obey me. But I cannot deny the wolf.”

"You held off well enough when I told you no the first two times!" she said, going tense all over, thinking about the scent marking she would probably wash off and have to replace. "And if you think I'm going to wash this _nasty _off me just for you to put it back on, you've got another thing coming. And it isn't you!" She made an aborted hand gesture at his crotch.

The wolf's eyebrows raised.

"_That_ has precisely nothing to do with_ this_. Get up. Let me carry you."

"No!" Caroline said, louder. "I'm not doing it."

"Let me put it to you this way. You can shower, or I can lick you clean. One of these things works out better for you, and trust me, the other really, _really_ doesn't." His eyes were glowing. Caroline put her chin up, trembling again. "I need to carry you there. It's an Alpha thing."

Upon reflection, Caroline would plead temporary insanity. She really had no idea why Tanner had pegged her for intellect, because she was clearly all about talking first and thinking later.

The wolf said:

"I mean it. Come here."

And Caroline retorted:

"Make me!"

There was a pause. The Alpha's eyebrows got real high on his face.

"Uhm," Caroline said, blinking hugely at him. "Maybe, don't?"

But the challenge was issued, and the wolf dived into the back seat, snatching her ankles and half dragging her out of the car before Caroline got a handful of seatbelt and held on for dear life. Once the wolf noticed actual resistance, he stopped, holding the struggling legs under one wing, reaching back over her body to smack her hands.

"Don't wreck my fucking car," he growled. "Let it go."

"YOU LET IT GO," Caroline snapped, and bucked harder. "LET _ME _GO."

"Just-! Fine, you want to be _difficult_?" There was a flash of yellow, and then he yanked her so hard the belt _burned her palms_. Caroline yelped and dropped it, and the wolf wrapped his arms around her, making strangely content huffing sounds as he lifted Caroline out of the car and into the bitter night.

For a second, he held her in the air, arms wound tight around her middle and her breasts flat against his chest. He kicked the door shut and started to stomp off.

She kicked her legs lamely.

"Okay, okay, you’re _squashing _me, this hurts, can you not?"

Surprisingly, the wolf obeyed. He worked Caroline’s arms to hang loosely over his shoulders, grabbing the backs of her legs to hold her up.

“Oh, no,” she said, shoving his chest. “No, no, _no,_ I’m not letting you get your gross wolf kicks by-!”

"Just be _still_," he said gruffly, tucking his chin over Caroline's shoulder.

Something... something came over her. A wash of understanding that this wolf wouldn't hurt her. The feel of him between her legs and lined up with her body was - electric.

She went loose against his hot torso, her lashes fluttering. Her hands, stupid with the feel of his powerful body between her open knees, curled in his shirt. One set of poised fingers trailed up his nape to thread into his hair, and he audibly swallowed next to her ear.

"I haven't seen the house,” she told him. “Hey, listen, please. I can just walk back. I'll - find my way back, and I won’t even have anything to tell the police. You won't be in any trouble if you let me go now. Please let me go."

"It's not that easy, love," the wolf said, sounding unfortunately serious. One hard thigh lifted between Caroline's hanging legs and he moved easily onto a stair.

"Please," Caroline said again. Tears started falling without permission. She was equal parts furious, scared, exhausted and calculating - her brain struggled to keep up, let alone her fluttering heart. "Just put me down, and I'll go."

The wolf slowly backed her up to the doorway, putting her back against it, lifting her face with a careful, warm hand. She was pinned between him and the wood at her back, but nothing about it was cruel. Something about the way he touched her, when paired with the full tilt regret in his wide yellow eyes, made her believe that this position wasn’t designed to hurt her, but to be close to her.

Her ankles crossed behind his back, and she clutched his shoulder with the hand not buried in his hair.

“I can't,” he told her. He looked sad, and younger than Caroline initially estimated. “I don't even want to put you down to shower. I have to seal the claim."

His thumb swiped over Caroline's cheek, while the other stung because of the tears in her scratched face.

"What? You didn’t say that before," she accused, scrunching up her face. She didn’t pull away from his hand, but he removed it before she could, wrapping it back under her thigh. "How do you seal it? What are you going to do to me now?"

The wolf swallowed.

"You won't like it," he muttered, but tightened his hands on Caroline's legs when she tensed up. "Don’t fret. I'm not going to mate you tonight."

"Tonight?" she repeated, and barely controlled the wobble of her lower lip. "Oh, good, something to look forward to." 

The wolf shifted, putting his nose up to Caroline's throat, making her swallow reflexively, tilt her head back as he breathed in by her pulse.

"It’s not like that, sweetheart." He stepped closer, pressing her more fully against him. His exhale made all the hairs stand up on the back of her bitten neck, a shiver racing down her left side. "I'm not going to rape you. I'm a werewolf, not an animal."

"You can think,” she urged.

“Of course I can think.”

“You understand words.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t…” she continued, fingers rubbing against his scalp. He rubbed his scratchy cheek against her throat. “You don’t really want to hurt me, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Truly.”

“You’re not an animal.” She looked up at the roof over the veranda. Couldn’t help but notice it was overcome by spider webs. He pressed a quick, trembly kiss to her throat. Her eyes flooded with tears. “You’re not a monster.”

“Not to you,” he said softly.

“So please, " she whispered. "Please… Let me go. I have - my mom needs me..."

"...You need to shower," he muttered in reply, and nudged the door open with his foot.

Caroline shut her eyes, hiding as she put her forehead down to the wolf's shoulder.

"Please," she said, low, and sobbed. "Please, I haven't seen anything, I won't tell anyone about this house, I just want to go home...Please just, let me go home."

"Marcel," the Alpha said, and the singular word rung with control. "There's a bag in the trunk. Get it. Don't touch what's inside, and bring it to me in the bathroom.”

Caroline sobbed again.

"Please," she said. "Please, I haven't seen your pack, they won't be in any trouble-"

“What the hell is this?” said another voice. A female voice. “Is she from the run?”

“It’s a long story,” the Alpha said shortly.

“You _can’t-_“ the woman started.

“Camille,” he warned.

“I ha-haven’t seen-!” Caroline said desperately against his shoulder. “I won’t say anything, I promise, please let me go-!”

"Sh," the Alpha said into her neck, and Caroline started crying, words slurring in mounting panic. "Shh, shh."

“You cannot be serious,” the woman said hotly. “Put her down. Put her down right _now_.”

“Please,” Caroline interjected.

“Get out,” he growled. His hands squeezed Caroline’s thighs. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving you with her like this!” the woman said loudly. “What the hell happened?! I thought you never brought them to the house?!”

“Camille, _get out_,” he barked, and Caroline heard fast footsteps and a door open but not shut.

The Alpha pressed his mouth to Caroline’s cheek, tasting her tears. He walked down a hall and maneuvered a door open without letting go of her, shutting it with his back. He set Caroline down on the counter and leaned back, taking her desperately blocking hands carefully away from her face, but Caroline kept her head down, shoulders up, shaking hard.

"I haven't s-seen anything," she promised the tiles between his bare feet. "I haven't seen an-nyone, I can't - you won't - the pack won't be in any tr-trouble-!"

"You’re alright. You're safe. Breathe, love."

The wolf pulled her coat back off her shoulders. Caroline yelped in surprise and whacked his arm, but he navigated her spare hand out of the sleeve and lifted it to his mouth, despite her trying in earnest to yank it back.

Alpha dragged his tongue over the dripping wounds on her palm. He lapped over the teeth marks in her forearm, then bent to lick the wounds in her bicep, too. All the holes were crusting up along too many puncture wounds, but only where his mouth had been.

She gasped as pleasant tingles filled the space where pain had been only moments earlier - so shocked she stopped crying. None of the books said anything about werewolves being able to heal.

He let Caroline go when she was sufficiently licked, and stepped away with his arms crossing over his chest. His soft grey sweats were pulling around what looked to be the most serious hard-on of all time, and she quickly averted her gaze.

Maybe if she pretended it wasn’t there, it would go away?

Caroline wiped her face, hurting the wound there, and took shuddering breaths, mouth tasting the cut of blood. The blood at the holes in her arms were thickening up, and she watched in a rapt kind of fascination as they scabbed over in front of her eyes.

"Wolves can chose to clean human wounds," the Alpha offered in a measured way. "The interaction of saliva with the blood encourages healing, and depletes chances of infection."

Caroline sniffed hard, looked up.

The bathroom was nice, done in blacks, whites and golds. The shower was clean, the glass panels offering precisely zero in the way of modesty, which did wonders for her neat freak brain. It looked like it could easily fit three of the Alpha in there, with room for activities. There was a small knock on the door, and Caroline dropped her head, putting hands over her eyes, tensing up.

"Thank you," the Alpha said.

There was a pause.

"Is she okay?" the male voice asked, and sounded calm.

"Not exactly," the Alpha muttered. "I’ll be busy the rest of tonight. I’ll explain tomorrow. Look in on Camille, would you?"

Another pause.

"Whatever you say," the voice said, hesitating only slightly.

The door clicked shut.

Caroline rubbed the mark on the back of her neck, tracing the hard welts with careful fingers.

"Come along now," the wolf said dully, and put his back against the shower screen, shutting the door without looking. "Take a shower."

Caroline lifted her head, still rubbing the bite mark on her neck. The wolf had sat down cross legged by the glass of the stall, putting his back against the shower to afford the human privacy. On the counter of the sink, she was surprised to see her Hello Kitty duffle bag, and a towel hung over the top of the shower. It was thick and fluffy looking, in a navy blue dark enough to almost be black.

“Wait,” she said, her chest jumping. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” he told the wall. He twined his fingers into a single fist on his lap and stared at his bare feet.

“Why are you doing that in _here_?” she said, and sucked back a whine.

“Because I need to be near to you while the moon is so full,” he muttered. “It’s an urge I can’t help. Please shower so we can be done and go to sleep.”

“Is there…?” she said softly, and rubbing the space over where her heart was banging so loudly. “Is there any point in asking you to step outside?”

“Not tonight,” he murmured.

Well. That was just fantastic.

“And you expect me to believe you’re not going to look?”

“I won’t look.”

The unfortunate thing was, the tone of his voice made her kind of believe him? Like she wanted to trust that he was good for his word, as he hadn’t yet given her so much as a side eye since he sat down, but still.

While she gathered her bravery, she scrambled for an excuse to keep him busy.

"The rest of the people in… the game,” she said slowly. "In the - run. D-...did you see any of them?"

The wolf tilted his head, but didn't turn.

"The girl with the bow shot me in the face."

"I’m asking about a boy," she said, heart all but stopping.

“A red head?”

“Not, that’s Archie. There should have been another guy – broad, blonde? Did you see another guy?”

The Alpha thought, for a long moment.

"You knew them? The other runners?"

"Tanner said he picked us from school,” she said thickly. “There were two from Mystic Falls, two from Riverdale and two from Beacon Hills. Did you see anyone else?"

The wolf turned to watch her out the corner of one bright eye, face pointedly soft.

"I didn't see him. I might've smelt him."

"Might've?" Her voice pitched. "Might've how?"

The wolf faced forward again.

"You need to shower," he told the wall. "And then I will talk to you more about the run.”

"While you’re in here, I'd rather slam my head repeatedly into a wall," she scoffed, then scrambled to the other side of the bathroom, pressing her whole body against it.

The wolf, having rolled into a dangerous looking crouch, was glaring at her.

"Let me tell you something," he said darkly. His muscles were bunched and tight, flexed hard enough to cut stone. Caroline couldn't help but stare at the long line of the dick the Alpha was trying to keep in his sweats. It was not subtle. "It is a full moon. I should be shifted. I am not. I am in pain, as long as I am not. It makes me _irritable_. The longer you fuck around and be difficult, the longer I hurt. And if I start being testy, that is now your own fault."

He sat heavily, put his back to her.

"Shower._ Now_," he growled, just to make his point abundantly clear.

Caroline had to wait for her heart to stop racing, because it was making her knees wobble and she didn’t think she could walk. She pulled off the rest of the jacket slowly, hugging it to her chest as she pushed off from the wall. Keeping an eye on the wolf the entire time, she reached out and put the jacket on the counter.

The wolf kept grinding his teeth, eyes focused on the door, arms folded over his middle.

Caroline dragged back the zip to her bag and found a soft pink hoodie and some black track pants, in addition to comfortable underwear. There was a pair of her favorite jeans, a wad of socks, her watch, a pair of runners, and a small can of wolf grade mace. The special sealed kind that they couldn't smell under the rubber lining full of mountain ash.

She fumbled with the clothes to cover it, feeling her face heat up. Of course. If Allison had her bow, and there had been Matt’s baseball bat as a weapon, she would get the chance at a weapon too. She had a way out. If she sprayed the Alpha and stole his keys-...

The plan was cut short.

No. No, no. There were other members of the pack here – she didn’t even know how many, but it had been at least two. Besides. Running on the night of a full moon was asking for trouble. It was stupid. Rash. If she was going home, she had to think smart. Suss out her surroundings and her captor.

Luckily, when the Alpha growled: "What is the hold up _now_?" she was able to drag a manila folder up and flip it open.

To all intents and purposes, it was her 'tribute stats', citing her as intellectual, giving her full name, blood type and age. The part that said 'partner’ was marked with a ‘?’, which was hilarious because she also had _no idea_ if she was or wasn’t with Tyler currently.

Flipping through the pages to see long range shots of herself at cheer practice, in the middle of organizing the spring dance, and giving her mom a big hug. There were pictures of her and Tyler kissing but several more of them arguing. There were pictures of her and Bonnie at the mall, inspecting dresses and getting milkshakes. There were pictures of her at home, alone, studying by the light of a single lamp, or changing her shirt through a tiny slither in the curtains.

She swallowed hard, and handed the file, with shaking hands, down to the Alpha.

"Can you... read what it says to me while I...shower?"

If anything, she'd figure out what the Alpha now knew about her and what was to be expected. But she was hoping that it would occupy him enough that she would actually shower and plan.

The best planning was always done in the shower, obvs.

The Alpha took it, frowning slightly, flipping back to the front page. Caroline dropped her clothes by the sink in a stinky, wet heap, and stepped into the stall, hands fretting on her t-shirt hem.

"Caroline Forbes. Age: 17. Why is there a question mark next to your relationship status?"

"If I knew, it wouldn’t be a question mark," she pointed out, and tossed her mess of a t-shirt over the top of the shower, watching the wolf shift round on his ass as he caught a wiff of it. “He’s… uh… Difficult.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“That,” she murmured. “Is a question mark.”

“Ah,” he said shortly, then began to read. "Initial assessment concluded that Caroline would be useless in an arena. She was seen as insecure and scatterbrained, and quickly dismissed. The second assessment was only given when she handed in an assessment on the nature of the ABO dynamic before first researching it. Her opinions, while brutal, were very insightful. This being her instinct and deductive reasoning based on only what she knew, she was back in the running for selection." The wolf sounded reasonably focused.

Caroline peeled off her underwear while staring boldly at the back of the Alpha’s head, reaching behind her to unclip her bra. She put them at the end of the shower stall to try and get out of him actually smelling them, and turned the water on without looking away from his reddish/brownish/blondish curls.

He didn't so much as stop reading.

"She continued to read impressive literature including wolf culture and the development of human/interhuman dynamics, which served to open the floor for a surprise assessment when quizzed about possible survival strategy in the wood. She was able to have surprisingly insightful conversations when correctly focused. She was identified as being-..."

Caroline was washing the come and leaves off her stomach with a more than generous amount of soap. The wolf paused only slightly.

"...She was identified as being an out-of-the-box thinker, and determined to prove people wrong. A third and final assessment secured the idea that when faced with life or other, if she could hone her brain and use all her Intel to battle cleverly, she could survive. In addition to a thirst for knowledge and command over her other peers, she was proven to be resourceful, having utilized her mother’s status as sheriff to manipulate several persons into doing what she wanted."

Caroline was about ready to dive for the towel, crash out of the shower, and grab the mace from her bag. But the wolf just tilted his head, and kept reading. Now he knew that her mother was the sheriff... would that change something between them?

"Overly protective of her friends...particularly another possible tribute, of whom she shares a pack-like bond... Did he make your friend run?” he inspected the page. “Bonnie Bennett?”

“No,” she said softly. “At least, I don’t think so… He didn’t say her name, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Bennett,” he repeated. “That’s a witch’s name.”

“Bonnie isn’t a witch,” she said shakily.

He made a low humming noise of thought, and kept reading.

“Father absent, though suspected abusive… only remaining parent, neglectful and workaholic..."

“She’s not neglectful,” Caroline protested weakly. “She’s busy.”

"Your mother is the sheriff?"

"Yes. I know the law, okay? When you seal the, whatever_ this_ is, I'm still gonna be human, right? I can still go home? When you change your mind?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, so Caroline washed everything quicker, using probably more soap than strictly necessary but finding it super hard to feel clean.

She rinsed, and wrapped up in the towel up high around her chest, only cracking the shower enough to collect her clothes. She dressed hurriedly, watching the wolf the entire time, not bothering to dry off completely. The second the zip on her hoodie was up, the wolf rolled onto his feet, closing the folder on the picture of her smiling goofily at the daisies in Tyler’s hands.

The Alpha honestly looked a little grey, but handed the file back to her. Caroline stuffed it into her bag, and snatched her watch out with shaky fingertips, then hauled Hello Kitty against her chest, both arms around it tightly. Already, her feet were throbbing and her side ached fiercely. The mark on her neck felt hot and she rubbed at it.

"Stop touching it," the Alpha said.

"Am I going to be human, when you seal the claim?" she repeated, fingers still pressing into the thick welts at her nape. Despite having backed up into the sink, her voice was rough but firm. She sniffed loudly in the resulting silence, flinching when the Alpha extended his hand.

"Yes," he said finally. "You'll be a human when I seal the claim. I have to carry you to the den."

"What are you going to do?" Caroline said, and when the wolf didn't reply, her heart nearly stopped beating. She swallowed, twisting the used towel in her hands. Her feet hurt when she shifted on them, and she flinched, having to lean on the sink with her healing hands. "Are you going to hurt me? Are you going to –r-…. Are you going to mate me?”

"I won’t mate you tonight. Look." His eyes were an absurd murky color, part yellow wolf, part blue human. His Alpha nails were extended, but the grip that latched under her elbow was almost tender. "It might be better if you don't know."

"You're going to hurt me, aren't you?"

"Put your arms around me," he said quietly. “Let me carry you. I’ll be quick as I can.”

"Wait," she said urgently. "Wait - don't - isn't there a - can't you just - not, do, the claim?"

"No," he said softly. "Come now. It'll be quick, and painless if you don't struggle."

Caroline considered making a run for it, clutching the bag with one tight hand. The wolfsbane mace, jeans, the tribute file, a pair of socks, a watch and shoes. That's what she had on hand to defend herself. She wanted, very badly, to bring out the mace, but her brain warned her against it.

Maybe the wolf would tire himself out in the following claiming - maybe she'd have a chance in the morning, when the Alpha had to explain to his pack what was going on? She would have to be patient.

Hone her focus, like the file said.

"I'm not a damsel, I can walk," she said flatly, trying to drag her arm out of his hand.

"Besides how torn up your feet are, it's not about you." He scowled. There was a beat. "Fine, don't cooperate. See what happens."

Turned out, all that would happen was that she would be picked up anyway, her stuff hugged to her chest. She burned with embarrassment, trying to make herself small as possible, feeling her entire body tense up.

The Alpha didn't say anything, just turned the light off as he left the bathroom to carry her out into a moonlit front room - the roof was a glass dome, opening up to reveal the sparkling navy sky. The circular room was more glass, top to bottom opening up to reveal a stretch of dense trees and the darkness of the wilderness, no neighbors or buildings to be seen. Just trees everywhere, flooded with bright moonlight.

The den was both nothing, and everything, that Caroline had expected.

It was a sunken, mattressed room with a ton of pillows in mismatching cases, twisted covers in different sizes. It didn't exactly smell like anything to Caroline except for being a frequented place. The Alpha set her down in the middle of a particularly soft pile, and took her bag.

"Can I keep it?" Caroline said, digging in her fingers. It made her forearms hurt, and wrists creak from prior abuse, but she wasn't going to let go if she could help it.

"You can keep your things, Caroline," the Alpha said quietly. "I'm just putting it over there for now." He indicated with his head, motioning to the corner, where there was a phone charger, minus a phone.

She lodged in her brain that it was a potential ally for her, and let go of the bag.

Her heart beat so quickly, and she wasn't sure if her clothes were sticking to her because of not drying properly after the shower, or because of the nervous sweat she was suddenly all but slipping around in. She sucked her upper lip free of sweat, took a good look around at the room, but it was meant for pillows and blankets and nothing else, and that was all it was. Not one solid thing to throw at him, or to use as a weapon.

She could see a room across the hall, which had couches and a big screen TV. The Alpha put her stuff down by the doorway, zipping the bag closed entirely, then stood and stepped back onto the blankets.

Caroline started to crawl back, breathing long and hard.

The wolf took slow steps forward, lifting his hands.

"Caroline," he said, and frowned slightly. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"What?" she scoffed. Her head touched cool glass, and her body slid up, neck stinging when she slid against it. "Easy for you to say. You're not going to get hurt, are you? You're the Alpha. I'm just the chewtoy.”

"I don't want to hurt you," the wolf said. "But I must seal the claim."

"Not seeing a downfall for you here," she retorted.

"It won't hurt if you don't struggle," the wolf huffed, sounding growly. He took more steps forward, and Caroline popped up to her sore feet, hands braced against the glass.

She was trembling, breathing hard, feeling on the edge of a panic attack. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and no matter what she did, she couldn't make herself move.

"I don't want this," she said loudly. "I don't want this and - and you can't tell me to fight my basic instinct to try and get away from you, like I'm on your side, or something!"

"You wouldn't know instinct if it bit you in the ass," he said with low humor. "You're a human."

"I-!" She wasn't sure why she took such an offence to that. She was quite happy to be a human, thank you very much. "You-! I'm not - I don't care, I don't want you to touch me, and I don't want you to think that if I'm - calm, then you can - do what you want!"

"You won't get mated," the Alpha offered. "That's what I can tell you."

"Oh, you're all about consent, huh?" She gave a nervous giggle that was supposed to be patronizing. "Does that apply to whatever you're going to put me through? Or don't your _kind_ ever hear the old 'no means no'?"

The Alpha's eyes flashed, and he snapped flat teeth at her. Caroline dropped to her knees, expecting to be hit, expecting to be hurt, to be bitten, arms flying up to protect her face and throat.

But the wolf only prowled a little closer, before sinking to his knees.

"You're strong," the wolf said quietly. "I can see it. I can _taste_ it. You just need to be a little bit stronger, just for a few more minutes, love. It won't take long, and it shouldn't hurt if you stay still. Just stay still."

"I don't think you're getting this," Caroline muttered, cracking her arms to peer through them. "I'm not going to help you. I don't want your claim. I don't want to be here. I want to go home." She didn't realize how precarious her control was until she was talking, and her vision was blurring with tears.

"Stop that," he instructed.

"Please," she said, and wasn't even ashamed to hear herself begging. "I just want to go home."

The wolf, in all his big badassery, looked kinda small, mostly sad.

There was a pause.

But before his claws came out, blink-and-you'd-miss-it-quick, Caroline was darting to the side and fumbling on the slip of covers, getting up on her feet to clear half the room before her ankle was caught and she was yanked onto her belly onto thankfully soft bedclothes.

She sent back a wayward kick and rolled onto her back, yelling.

"Get _off,_ get off of me!"

"Be still!"

The Alpha took her shoulder and roughly manhandled her back onto her stomach, sitting on her ass.

"_Don't_!" she absolutely shrieked.

He didn't pay her any mind. He didn't even hesitate. He shoved her head down with a sweaty hot hand and sunk unkind teeth into the thrumming wound at the back of her neck.

Her yelling turned into a louder, higher pitched screaming, and intermittently stopped by her desperate heaving for air. She clawed at the blankets, then at the head bent behind hers, scratching at a face that didn't bother trying to defend itself, not even when Caroline drew blood.

She had screamed so hard for so long she was going to throw up; dry heaving as the wolf hauled her up by the scruff of her neck and put claws under her hoodie, one over her rapidly pumping heart, the other on her stomach.

The claws dug in to pop through her skin and Caroline was laid out, along the Alpha, whose legs had wrapped around hers from behind to keep her kicking still.

Her hands tried to claw at the wolf's wrists but the grip on her belly tightened and the sharp burst of pain was enough to make her lose her breath. Caroline choked on screams and started crying harder, hands pulling at the thick arms around her waist.

"Please," she sobbed. "Please, stop, god, _help me, somebody help-!"_

The wolf released her neck, growling low enough that it shook Caroline's whole body. She was still crying, but most of it was muffled when the Alpha rolled them over and teethed at the skin around the bite mark.

"Get off!" she shouted into the pillows, but the Alpha just dug tighter claws into her, the one around her heart piercing through flesh. "Get - get_ off_ \- of me!"

She punched the Alpha's shoulder. Hurt her hand.

His mouth dragged wetly over Caroline's belly, licking broadly over the five puncture wounds in her abdomen. When he started to inch upwards to lick the ones he’d torn into her chest, she _shrieked_ and shoved his head really hard. He didn’t make any further movements upward.

Caroline blubbered.

The wound on the back of her neck felt wet but it wasn't from blood - it throbbed and was hot to the touch, but didn't hurt, exactly. She started struggling, started trying to buck the heavy wolf off, when one hot hand reached up under her head and clamped on her neck, forcing her to meet his eyes. Her whole body went - _oh, shit_ \- and suddenly, she wasn't capable of moving.

"Relax," the Alpha said, and Caroline's body went lax.

She whimpered as the Alpha came back up, breathing in her air, rubbing a stubbly face over hers, a hot tongue tasting the mark on her cheek.

He adjusted them to be on their sides, face to face, his hand still bracketing the bite mark on the back of her neck. The weight of it was actually very helpful in making it less painful, but it also pulled on the collar around her neck and made breathing harder than it had to be. His free hand stroked Caroline's face, down to her bellybutton, up under the hoodie to brush along claw marks that still stung on her chest.

"It's over," he murmured against Caroline's brow. "It's done, now. No more pain."

Caroline just sniffed, sore and stinging, bruised and battered, feeling humiliated, weak, and used, but at least she was calm, somehow.

"I hate you," she promised lowly. Her body content to rest, but its disobedient stillness served to fuel her anger. "I hate you so much."

"I know," the Alpha said softly, then rubbed his nose to her brow.

"That _hurt_," she accused wetly.

"I told you to be still. You fought me," he retorted in a low mutter. He pressed a very small kiss against her cheek. It made a wave of calm fill her anxious belly, and her idiot hands reached out to grasp his shirt. Her body inched closer to his and she hid her teary eyes against his shoulder, to his gentle cooing. "Please don't cry, love, you'll break an old man's heart."

"Then an old man can join the club," she grumbled.

He gave a breath of a laugh that was more for show than anything, rubbing her back.

"Will you sleep at all?"

"Not with this thing around my neck. I can barely swallow," she sniffed. "And I don't want to sleep anywhere near you."

"I'll make the collar looser for you," he amended. His careful hand eased under her chin and she blinked tears from her eyes at the tenderness of his grip.

"I want to go home," she told him, miserable. "Please, _please_ let me go home."

He kissed her cheek once more, then settled to look into her eyes. His iris quivered, and his thumb smoothed over her jaw.

"I know it will be impossible for you otherwise," he murmured. "So you should go to sleep now, Caroline."

And Caroline? 

Did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews feed the author


	5. Adjusting

Caroline stirred, initially, when the Alpha shifted and yawned behind her. She was exhausted - bruises throbbed, feet stung, and there was a dull ache in her thighs from sharp bursts of running, in addition to her sore arms from climbing.

So she was mostly asleep when the Alpha rubbed his nose on the back of her head, rolled onto his feet, and stepped over her.

She'd been drifting, unwilling to move from where she was swaddled in blankets, nursing her hurt and misery in comfort. Dully, she heard him pause on the hardwood floor, and felt his weighty gaze on her head. She made himself breathe evenly, made herself loose and comfortable.

"When you're ready," the Alpha said. "Come to the kitchen."

Not long after that, the smell of highly caffeinated coffee and the beginnings of toast began to waft into the den.

Her stomach made hungry noises, which was surprising given how stressful her night had been. Her eyes were blurry and she had to blink hard a few times to get them clear. The denspace was actually kinda nice? It was bordered in white wooden shutters that had been shut around the glass dome, leaving slices of sunlight to pour in, but affording nice shade.

What she knew was this; she had one available can of wolf-mace, jeans and shoes, and a clear path to the front door. If she could maintain a calm heartbeat, she might be able to creep to it and go - if she could find some keys before she made an attempt, she could use a car, which would maybe piss the wolf off even more but make an _excellent_ battering ram if he got in her way.

She sat up, pooling sheets and twisted blankets all around her. She listened, but heard only the hiss of bacon and eggs frying on the pan. Carefully, she crawled over to the bag with her stuff in it and quickly got out of her sweats and into her jeans, keeping one eye on the doorway.

She took her shoes in hand, bag slung over her chest, and leaned to the side to glance down the lengthy hallway. The walls were soft grey; when combined with the early morning light, it gave a creepy, almost hospital-like quality to the house. The staircase at the back of the hall had darker grey carpet, with a gothic looking banister and several photos lining the walls she couldn't quite see.

Next to her head, there was a black and white framed photo of the Alpha and who she assumed was another male wolf. The other man was dressed impeccably, even for the era he seemed to be dressed for - if she had to guess she'd say roaring twenties? Maybe it was a themed party or something.

They seemed close, arms around each other, smiling widely for the camera. The other man looked familiar. Like, _super_ familiar. Like she couldn't name what movie she'd seen him in, but she knew she'd seen him before.

The next photo was of the Alpha, the dark haired man again, a more cheeky looking man, and a pretty blonde lady. They were again dressed to the nines and in the middle of some fancy party dedicated to a bygone era. She could've sworn that they were familiar, somehow.

"Caroline."

Caroline nearly had a heart attack, jumping so violently she hit her back against the wall and half fell over, taking quick steps to keep up right. She ended up bouncing off the other wall and flinging out a hand to catch the banister leading upwards, both shoes hugged tightly to her chest.

The Alpha just calmly blinked at her, moving forward, in the rumpled version of his sweats and henley from the night before.

"Are you going somewhere?" he said, looking at the shoes in her hands.

Caroline looked down too, then to the side, where a side door was open to reveal a chrome, white, and pale grey kitchen. She stumbled to the side, backing away, looking at the Alpha.

"I – no." She shook her head. "No, no. That'd be stupid."

The Alpha frowned slightly, followed her around to where she was half cowering against the wall, heart banging somewhere in her throat.

"Come and have something to eat," the Alpha said.

“I’m not hungry.” She actually felt like her head was spinning, rushing with adrenaline and nerves. Caroline glanced at the kitchen. "Is your pack in there?"

“No," the Alpha said, and paused, looking her over. "Don't worry about my pack."

"What? Of course I will," she scoffed, and took a few steps back at his terrible glare. "Listen, _asshole_, you don't get to call the shots on what I can and can't be concerned about!"

"Call me an asshole again,” he dared her. “And I will make you regret it. Now, come into the kitchen, and have something to eat."

"No!"

"No?" he repeated, raising a brow. "Are you going to starve yourself to spite me?"

"_No_," she said viciously. "I don't want anything you've touched. I'll make my own breakfast."

"That's all well and good," he drawled, not at all impressed. "But I've already made your food for this morning. Start your strike later."

"Are you serious?" she said, voice pitching in volume.

"As death," he assured her. "Get in the kitchen and eat."

"Make me!" she snapped, and then started to back away, saying: "No, no, no, that was me being sarcastic, sarcas-! _Hey_!"

The wolf darted forward and grabbed a handful of her hoodie and the strap of her bag, dragging her clean across the floor in one mighty pull to bring her into the circle of his arms like a wave crashing against an ancient stone.

This, alarmingly, did not matter.

The second she was back in his sphere, she relaxed, the muscels in her body going loose to touch him again. Her hands dropped the shoes, and she cupped his face, exhaling a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her idiot thumbs studied the shape of his lips, and the scratch of his stubble, and the dimple that dug into his cheek as his smile grew.

"May I carry you?" he mused.

"Yeah," she murmured in a daze, and didn't struggle as the wolf picked her up and carried her into the kitchen with his forearms braced behind her ass. Her legs automatically wound around the Alpha's waist and tightened.

It just felt... kinda right? The instinct was that he was not going to hurt her, and that she... needed, to touch him. She sighed and rubbed the small triangle of skin above his collar with reverant fingertips.

She was there, coherent enough to hold onto his shirt with her free hand so she didn't fall, but her mind had... numbed. She knew that she wasn't supposed to want to full on cling to the body of her captor but also - it wasn't that bad. Like, she could've told him to cut it out and let her walk, but a dangerous voice in her head said: _Alpha Taxi is better_.

He set her down on the stool by the island bench, dropping his head to give her cheek a quick kiss. Her fingers slid along his jaw and dug into the ends of his unruly hair, stopping his hasty retreat.

"No, no, no," she mumbled, steering his head down to her cheek and then the hinge of her jaw. "Kiss me here."

"Here?" he said smugly, and did as she asked.

"Yeah, there. That's-... Yes. And here, and here..." she said slowly. She continued to put him where she wanted his mouth, where he obliged her by giving her kiss after kiss. The more he gave, the more he lingered, and she felt tingles rush the length of her body at the merest brush of his teeth. "Uhm... Yeah, so, I don't know... what's happening..."

"I'm burning my bloody breakfast, is what's happening," he muttered, and didn't sound the least bit unhappy about it. He kissed her throat, and she felt her traitorous head tilting back to allow him to lip at it, the swipe of his hot tongue making her gasp. "But you, Caroline, are delicious enough for me not to mind."

Something about that statement made her hands tighten in his hair, and to his credit, he read the non-verbal que for what it was. He exhaled, lifted his head as though it weighed a tonne, and patted her calf, still wound tightly around his hips.

"Release," he advised.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," she said to him, and uncrossed her legs abruptly. She blinked stupidly at the empty space between her knees as he crossed the kitchen to tend the now crispy bacon, and then her mouth popped open. "No! I'm _not _sorry! What the hell do you keep doing to me?!"

She jumped to her feet, put her back against the wall, tucking the bag to her leg in the event it was taken away. Even without having the mace in her hand, she felt safe with it in her immediate vicinity. Just in case she pushed her luck (which she knew she would) and he snapped (which was what usually happened with the people she pushed.)

"I'm not doing anything to you," the Alpha said mildly. "That's the part of you that recognizes me as your pack."

"My pack?" she repeated dangerously, and narrowed her eyes.

"That animal part of your body that sings for me."

"My body is not-" She screwed up her nose. "_Singing_, for you. And you are not my pack!"

"It is, and I am," he assured her.

"No, my pack is at home, in the human district of Mystic Falls. My pack is my mother and my best friend Bonnie, stupid Tyler and Matt - oh, god, Matt..." She lost steam, and felt the heat in her face bleed out. The room even felt colder to think of Matt, and the baseball bat that had been meant for him. The one she'd stolen and tried to beat up the Alpha with - the one he'd chewed up and spat out like it was made of warm plastic. "Did you get him?"

"I only took you," he said darkly.

"But did you hurt anyone?"

"I didn't hurt anyone."

"You hurt me!" she cried. "Did he make it out? Do you know what happened to anyone else?"

The wolf looked at her over his shoulder, hands idly spilling food onto his buttered toast and turning off the heat. He shook his head slowly.

"I don't."

"I have to know," Caroline said.

"I'll find out," the wolf promised.

She swallowed.

"What about Tanner?"

"Tanner will be dealt with."

"How?" she pressed, and skipped nervously away from him as he approached, putting the dining table between his advance and her person. She eyed the two plates in his hands, then his face, but couldn't quite figure out what his expression was. "What? Are you hungry?"

"Starving," he acknowledged.

"Are you going to bite me again?"

The wolf heaved a heavy sigh.

"Not unless you misbehave."

Wait.

Caroline had no intentions of _behaving_, much less behaving for some kidnapper who was threatening to bite her again. She let her face broadcast exactly how she felt about that, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm not going to be some precious little chewtoy," she seethed. "You're never going to touch me with your teeth ever again, and if you try, I will actually gouge your eyes out!"

The wolf rose one serious eyebrow.

"Really?" he said flatly.

"Really!" she exclaimed. She yanked up her bag and gave it a hug, which rather detracted from how tough she was actually being. "I am smart enough to get away from you after I stab you in the face! And while I remain a human, then I will never stop wanting to go home!"

His blue eyes flicked to her, knowing.

"Then perhaps," he said softly. "I should just take that away from you, and make you like me."

Caroline slid away, along the wall, breath caught in her throat.

His gaze lingered on the tight clutch of her hands around her bag, before he turned his attention to his breakfast and slid into a chair. He started eating as though an entire emotional turmoil wasn't happening in front of him.

Caroline didn’t move.

"If you turn me into a werewolf," she promised him, her throat making the words thick. "I will actually kill you."

"Thousands have tried before you," he mentioned. "So best of luck. Do you want coffee?"

Caroline was vaguely aware how close she was to some kind of fairly concerning panic attack on top of the severe emotional trauma she felt was due. Caffeine was not going to help. But if it was hot enough, she was gonna throw it in his eyes. And then maybe mace him.

"You're not gonna turn me," she said bitterly.

"If your issue is that you're human and you have a pass to the human portion of Mystic Falls," he said after swallowing his mouthful and getting to his feet. "I will, in fact, turn you. Do you take cream or sugar?"

He ambled casually back into the kitchen, collecting two mugs and the creamer.

She opened her mouth to press the issue, but as it was, the tension in the room had upped to ten when he next turned around. The Alpha was staring at her, eyes a weird muddy green color as his natures collided.

The new instinct she had developed gave her the heads up that if she continued down that path, he would 100% leap across the table and turn her into a werewolf in a snap. She didn't understand why that was such a distinct impression, but she trusted it.

The wolf put the mugs down and nodded to her plate.

"Take a seat," he said.

“I’m not hungry,” she protested.

“You don’t have to be hungry to sit,” he retorted. He poured his own coffee and took a healthy slog, eyeing her over the rim. When he put the mug down, he did it so hard she flinched. "_Sit_!"

Her feet were hurting under her weight, and she shifted, swallowing, as she justified taking a seat just to get her weight off.

Caroline wrestled internally with what she was going to do, but ultimately - and sweating profusely - took the steaming plate to slide it nearer to her. It did smell mouth-wateringly good. She stopped her hand from going to the toast, picking up a strip of bacon instead.

He watched as she chewed on the end, then nodded and kept eating his own food.

"Please don't turn me into a werewolf," she said to the plate. "I-... I'm gonna get really annoying, really quickly, and you're not gonna want me anyway."

"I doubt that," he drawled. "And that's a poor excuse to be released from a claim."

"I-" She stopped until her trembling throat wasn't cutting off her words. "I - I'm so overbearing, and neurotic so I'm just - just letting you know. Keeping your options open."

"I intend to keep you the rest of your natural life," he said mildly. So mildly. Like what he was saying wasn't devastating. "And if you ask me, I will turn you, and keep you even then."

Caroline stiffened, looking at the plate in front of her. Her natural life? As in like, until she was forty? Fifty? What if she wanted kids - would he think that she would have them with him? Or like - a career? Was she just going to be his clingy little mindless fuck doll the rest of her life, until she asked him to make her a monster? And even then - he wanted to 'keep' her after that? Was she ever getting out of this alive?

Her whole world swirled like water in a toilet. Speaking of….

She shoved up to run to the bathroom, lifting the lid, before she exited the mouthful of food she had managed to swallow.

She coughed, spat, leaned on her arm, then flinched away as he entered the room, frowning.

The Alpha grabbed a towel and dampened the corner of it, squeezing most of the water out into the sink, before he turned with it lifted at her.

“No, don't touch me,” she moaned. “Go _away_. Just leave me alone.”

"Caroline," he said firmly. "I am your Alpha. It's my job to look after you."

"Does that mean using some kind of werewolf mojo to make me do things I don't want?" she snapped, then felt her stomach rush, saliva pooling in her teeth. "Oh, _god_."

She rocketed up onto her knees and threw up mostly bile, straining until she couldn't breathe. She coughed hard, clutching the seat in both hands, tears streaming down her nose.

The Alpha made a move to step toward her and she flapped her hand at him and threw up again, her stomach so tightly clenched she couldn't breathe.

He waited by the sink until she was leaning between the bowl and the wall, still hugging her bag, before he approached again.

"I don't make you do anything," he said slowly.

"Don't come any closer!" she said hotly. "And yes you fucking do! When you touch me I bug-out, don't think I haven't noticed-!"

"When you touch me," he said firmly. "You are only exploring the pack as you would if you were a werewolf."

"_What_?!"

"When you and I touch, that is your animal nature, Caroline. I amplify it." He sank to a crouch. "It's always there, that little voice in your head. The impulse to touch, and smell, and taste. That's animal, and for the next little while it'll evolve by nearness, unless I turn you and you can develop it by yourself."

She sniffed, and hovered on her knees, waiting to throw up again.

He looked at the towel in his hands.

"I know you don't want to be here. I understand. But it doesn't change that I'm your Alpha now, and I do mean to take care of you." He twisted the towel, then looked at her from under his lashes. "For the foreseeable future, you're going to have to bare the rest of the claim."

"What does that even mean?" she grumbled.

"It means I need to look after you. Keep you safe and content. I'll spoil you if you let me, buy you anything you want."

Classic Alpha posturing, 101. It was almost comedic, how cliche he was. Alphas couldn't help but dote on their pack; they were nurturers and warriors, a perfect blend combination of both intense love and rage.

"I don't know how you think you can spoil me," she sniffed.

"I dare you to try and take advantage," he said with a small smile. "You can't think of the things I can't buy you."

"That - that's not -... The point." she gulped. "What did you mean by 'keeping me content'? And what are you keeping me safe from?"

"Enemies," he said simply. "It only means I need to feed you, tend your needs. On full moons I will need to touch you and sleep with-"

Caroline's abruptly grey face must've tipped him off.

"Not _sleep with_. I told you, I'm not going to mate you."

"You said 'I won't mate you tonight'," she reminded him, in a terrified whisper. "That isn't today."

"I won't mate you today." He seemed to struggle. "I won't mate you until you want me."

"Don't hold your breath," she said, still currently mortified and frozen with fear. Her stomach roiled, and she swallowed back more bile. "Or do. Whatever."

The wolf didn't say anything, just offered the damp towel to Caroline at arm's length. The human didn't take it, just stared back, feeling sick and terrified, boxed into her corner.

"How long?" she pressed. "The _foreseeable _future? Does that mean for a week, or until you're sick of me? Because I'm telling you-"

"I won't be sick of you," he said, voice hard.

"Like, just humor me," she pleaded. "Time wise. Is this whole... thing, gonna be a week? When can I go home?"

The wolf leaned a shoulder against the bathroom counter and pursed his lips into a displeased pout.

“This... 'whole thing', as you put it - it doesn't have a concrete timetable, love. It's different for everyone."

"But like-" She swallowed, waiting for some kind of reprimand. She wasn't sure why, but he let her talk, and it felt off; like the big bad wolf wasn't supposed to listen to Little Red Riding Hood. "Like... Isn't there... like, things, that claimed people usually do?"

"Generally it's familiarizing oneself with the pack," he offered. "I'll keep you close to me."

"But what does that mean?" she pressed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I only want you to adjust and be comfortable with me."

"Don't say it like you're doing me a _favor_," she snapped, screwing her nose up at him.

"It's not a favor," he shrugged. "It is what all claiming pairs go through. It's not a one-size-fits-all. How we become intimate to each other-"

She wretched suddenly, shooting up to hang uselessly over the toilet bowl. She spat a mouthful of bitter bile, and gagged as her throat convulsed around another hot burst. With her head still in the bowl, she reached blindly for the toilet paper and ripped off a sheet to swipe at her mouth.

It floated in vomit and water, drifting.

"Don't say _intimate_," she asked the bowl, echoing around her head.

"Alright," he amended. It might've been because her head was roaring or the fact that her ears were blocked by one pillowed arm and a echoy basin, but he sounded concerned. "I didn't mean - physically. I understand you think I'm-... Evil. I won't hurt you like that, Caroline. I promise."

"Uh huh," she said thickly. "Just- what exactly am I looking at, here? What are you going to do to me?"

She managed to lift her head and look up at him, waiting.

"For now, I surmise I'll be your version of too much. As for the time it might take, I can't speak to it. Claims are different for everyone," he answered, except it was a total not-answer and _fuck him_. "Given the climate between us is quite volatile, our bonding might present completely differently to someone who wanted to be claimed. Does that answer your question?"

He watched Caroline breathe heavily, not sure whether or not she was going to throw up. That made two of them, because her stomach was still circling itself and making her head spin.

"I just -" she said. "Please, I don't want to be turned into anything. I like being a human."

His mouth twisted.

"If you continue to have designs to run off on me," he warned her. "And that's only due to the fact you are human, I will remove that from the equation."

"No," she said, mortified, and started gagging again. Around a gag, she pleaded: "Please - don't-!"

Again, he waited until she was panting, tucked safely behind the toilet, before he spoke.

"Are you done?”

"Am I done?" Caroline repeated. "Like it's _my fault _I've got stress vomit?"

She actively tried to morph into the wall when the Alpha stood up, taking a few steps closer. The wolf bent, cocking his head, eyes clear and blue.

"I don’t mean to be cruel," he said.

“Try _harder_!”

“Caroline,” he said firmly. “I don't want to drag you out kicking and screaming, but as I don’t intend to spend the entire day in this room, I will.”

“Just leave me here,” she said desperately. When his face hardened and he took a menacing step forward, she shook her head and threw out a hand to halt him in his tracks. “No, no – please, don't touch me-!"

"Then get up," he snapped.

"Wait, please, just _wait _\- I’m not – I’m not being difficult! I don’t_ know_. I feel so sick. I don’t know if I'm actually done. Can you please just leave me here?”

“I’d rather get you a bucket. There’s too many sharp things in bathrooms,” he said, peering down his nose at her in question.

“Not my style,” she quipped.

He leaned against the sink, tucking his arms across his chest. He watched her, eyes studying, waiting. She was already stiff and uncomfortable, her hurt body still in recovery mode and not at all interested in balling up between a wall and a toilet. But she also really didn't want to be dragged around again, especially since the Alpha's touch would like, melt her brain, or something. Make her animal? Do the touchy-touch? What_ever_. She didn't want him to touch her.

"B-...But... I just... I can walk now, right?” she said. “You don’t have to carry me everywhere, do you?”

“I want to,” he informed her with a jerky shrug. “It would be in your best interest to let the urges manifest without resistance. The more you push me away, the more I want to be near to you.”

“Are you going to be around, all the time?" She winced. "Just - tell me. If you're going to- hover."

"I will. Especially while I think you're going to do something stupid without constant supervision," he said, and extended a hand, flexing fingers at her. "Like hurt yourself, or not stay where I leave you."

"Can I walk?" She said weakly. "Please? It's – just to the kitchen..."

Klaus flexed his fingers again.

"You can walk. But let me clean you up before we go. You have vomit on your chin."

Caroline tucked further into the space between wall and toilet, and hugged her bag, using it to wipe under her chin.

"Better?" she hazarded.

"No. You stink." He flexed his fingers again. "Come here."

“What happens if I say no?”

"Say no," he goaded. "And we'll find out."

"Tell me," she demanded. "What are you going to do, if I say no?"

“Right now? I’ll pick you up and do it anyway,” he said. "You don't need to reek of spew while I'm eating my breakfast."

"Well if you pick me up," she threatened boldly. "I'm going to throw up right into your face! So _bleh_."

The wolf clearly didn't appreciate that, darting forward to haul her up by the front of her hoodie. In a panic, she yelped and tried to dodge him - but accidentally bashed her head back against the wall. She put bare feet down, hoping to find some kind of grip but her feet were still sore from the night before and sprung away reflexively.

Her damaged hands lost grip on the toilet fixture, and she was deposited in the middle of the tiled room on her feet. He flushed the toilet, knocking the lid down, before turning and frowning at her.

"Stop being difficult and let me clean your face,” he said again.

In reply, Caroline backed up, slamming her shoulders into a wall to lever up into standing, hand pressed firmly against the abrasion on her neck. It throbbed horribly, like it had its own pulse. She shook her head willfully, and her collar - now very loose - shook with it.

"If you test me," the wolf snarled, upper lip pulling away from rapidly sharpening teeth. "I will turn you. Now. Come here_._" He spoke slowly, enunciating each word, like Caroline was stupid.

"If I let you 'clean me'," she said, aiming to mock his accent but failing with how uneven her voice was. "Are you going to touch me and make me want to be all over you?"

Apparently, he didn't like that. His eyes flashed gold and black, then soothed back into blue, his hands lifting in surrender as he actively tried to calm himself down.

But the damage was done; seeing his temper flare, over something that small? Not okay. She was a sensible lady with a brain in her head, thank you very much. She didn't deal with tantrums.

(Which was probably why Tyler was a ? on her relationship status, actually.)

"This is - so beyond not fair," she lamented. "You can't expect me to trust you when you have given me literally no reason to think you're not going to hurt me!"

"I didn't hurt you while you slept," he pointed out in a rush.

"Yeah but you did make me go to sleep! I don't even know how!" she shouted. "You_ made me_ go to sleep, and that was after you chased me around a forest and bit me a bunch of times!"

"That was the wolf-" he started, through his teeth.

"Well I'm not a wolf! And I want to go home! Just let me walk out, give me ten minutes, you won't find me again," she dared him, edging toward the bathroom door. "I'll do it, I swear, I'll find my own way home. Just let me, right now, and I'll-!"

"Not too good at this listening thing, are you?" he accused. "You're not a wolf, no. But you're mine. Because you're not a wolf, you don't have the same instant bond we have with each other. The way I feel about you-"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT _YOU _WANT OR HOW _YOU _FEEL!" she bellowed, surprised by how loud and powerful she sounded. "I WANT TO GO -!"

She was slammed into, hands pinned beside her head, the anger she had found dissipating as fast as it had come, in favor for fear and anxiety. She started crying, exhaling hard and sobbing, dropping her head forward.

The wolf put an arm around her waist, pulling her in tight, burying his nose against the crook of Caroline's shoulder.

"Stop crying,” he told her heatedly, holding her tightly. She put her fingers through his hair and held his skull with both hands. “I don't want your fear. I'm not going to hurt you, love. I know, I know it's not - what you want - but it'll get easier."

Caroline tried to push him away with weak, trembling arms, but somehow ended up grabbing handfuls of his shirt and holding on, keeping herself upright. He held her up with his arms around her sides, steely arms boxing her in like he was keeping her together.

"I don't even know your _name_!" she wailed. "And you want - you want me to just -? Be your pack and - and your obedient little-!"

"Klaus," he soothed, rubbing her back. "My name is Klaus."

She sniffled and hugged him tighter.

"Hi," she said, miserably into his shoulder. "Hi, Klaus."

"Hello, Caroline," he murmured. He waited a moment, his heart thumping loud and sure between them. "I don't want you to be obedient for the sake of obedience. I want you to be obedient because... because you trust that I will lead you as you should be lead."

"I'm not a wolf," she said weakly. "I don't want to be lead, and I _suck_ at obedient."

He didn't say anything for a long time, and she cried until her eyes felt swollen. She trembled and let him try and placate her with his body, which... you know. Didn't hurt. He felt lovely, actually, and she was acutely aware of the points of him that touched her. He felt like fireworks. 

He grabbed the damp towel and dabbed gently at her face, and a sticky splatter on the underside of her chin. He tossed it away without looking at made it land directly in the hamper.

"Will you let me carry you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You do," he murmured. "Tell me no, now, and I'll let you walk."

"Oh, you'll 'let me'," she muttered grumpily, and tightened her arms around him. "My feet hurt. I don't want to walk."

"Perfect, because I want to carry you," Klaus said into Caroline's hoodie. He bent slightly as though warning her he was going to pick her up, then and did so as though she weighed nothing. One arm under her ass, the other wrapped securely around her waist.

Caroline didn't protest, but she didn't hang on, either, hanging loosely like a rag doll with her face smushed against his throat and her bag hanging heavy over her shoulder.

She didn't hear anything, just her own hard, heavy breathing, bringing up her hands to hide her face when she was sat on the chair next to his. Her cool plate of breakfast foods was slid across to her, and she barely saw the Alpha watching with haunted eyes.

"You should eat," he said softly.

Caroline couldn't stomach a thing.

“When can I be alone?” she asked the darkness of her palms. “I don’t want to see you.”

"There are rooms upstairs you can take your pick of," he assured her.

She grunted something remotely like a: "_Thank God_," but wasn't game enough to say it boldly to his face.

Caroline got a handle on herself thinking about that safe space, managing to go from hiding her eyes to hugging the bag strapped across her chest. Her brain felt muddy - all her many thoughts kicking up long forgotten rumors and bits of information about werewolf kidnap stories and what their weaknesses were. She was sinking slowly into herself, thinking too hard about getting away and staying alive, right up until there was a hand on her knee.

She flinched so violently she nearly fell off the chair.

"I've got to touch you." It wasn't even apologetic, just determined. "I have a... quota, of contact, I'm going to need. If you want to tell me how to limit it to make you feel more comfortable-"

"Stop doing it?"

"Not going to happen.”

She made a distressed noise that was supposed to be words, then managed to unwind one arm from the death grip she had on the bag, and shove Klaus’ hand from her knee. Heat filled her face, making her heart sting sour notes, when he clamped a hand over her wrist.

“Do not,” he advised darkly. “Push me away.”

“I don’t want to see you right now,” she told the middle of his chest.

“So shut your eyes,” was his cold advice. “But let me at least hold your hand.”

She leaned away from the wolf but didn't let go. He slid her plate closer to her and put a fork in the top of a sausage.

“Eat,” the wolf said lowly.

She didn't want to.

She wanted to have a shower, walk out of the room, and be home.

"Can I call my mom?"

"What will you tell her?"

"I..." She stared at the plate. "I'll tell her I'm alive. And I want to know who made it home."

"You can call her," Klaus said slowly, then took a sip of his coffee. "But you can't tell her you're a human."

Because if the sheriff knew her child was a human on the wolf district of Beacon Hills, she could legally storm the place and seize her. The Alpha would have no ground to keep her - although Caroline was only faintly familiar with claiming law on his end. That was tricky.

"Okay, fine,” she told the counter. “Can I call her now?"

"I don't think you'll keep quiet," Klaus said mildly. "So you can call her, talk about whatever you like, for however long you want. But I'll... make sure you're not reaching for escape."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he said tightly. "I have ways to make you do the things I want, and I will employ them."

Caroline couldn't stop herself, both hands flying to the back of her neck to grasp at the site where he'd bitten her. She caged her hands around it, staring at the wolf.

"Are you going to bite me again?"

"No. I won't hurt you to achieve it, if that's what you're worried about." He offered, holding his mug between both hands, staring into it like it held all the secrets to the world. "I'll give you what you can't say. Nothing about claiming, no clues, nothing out of the ordinary."

"No thanks." Her voice was croaky. Caroline didn't know what he could do, and she did not want the Alpha's hands anywhere near her (which was clearly what he was talking about, right?). Or any other means he had to control her - she didn't want them. Especially if that meant more pain. He could say he wasn't gonna hurt her fifty thousand times, and she wouldn't believe him. "No way, and never. _No_."

"Then you can't call her." He didn't sound, didn't even look sorry, continuing to crunch his toast and sip his coffee. "Eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Caroline."

"I'm _not_ hungry," she said, louder.

"Just eat the toast."

"I don't want the toast." She eyed off the coffee, which Klaus helpfully scooted closer to her.

Caroline's immediate childish reaction was to whip her hand across and knock the sucker over.

Klaus’ hand blurred, it moved so fast, scooping up most of the spilled liquid in the falling mug before it even hit the table. There was an unfortunate amount of splashing, though, and he glared at it, then Caroline, who hugged her bag.

"Are you going to make this hard the entire time you're here?"

"How long do you think I'll be here, exactly?"

"I told you. I don’t know,” Klaus said, clenching his jaw. “Now. Let me touch you, or I’ll really lose my temper.”

Instead of complying, Caroline jumped up, stumbling to the side on her injured feet. The sudden shooting pains up her soles made her tired body just - collapse to her backside, and she backed across the floor, keeping her eyes on the approaching Alpha. She tumbled into the hallway before she could pop back up, putting a hand out like she was going to stop his stalking with a gesture.

"Are you for real?" she choked. “You’re going to lose your temper with me? Because I don’t want you to touch me? You nearly RAPED ME YESTERDAY!” She unwisely eyed the front door.

"Caroline," the Alpha warned, and shifted to half stand in front of it. "Don't even _think_ about running."

"Are you going to stop me? Huh? Make me not think about it? Fight my basic human nature to try and run or - or fight? Are you literally just going to take away everything I am, until I'm an Alpha chewtoy you can pass around the pack?"

"It's. Not. Like. That."

"THEN WHAT IS IT LIKE?!"

"It's-" he growled. "Complicated."

"No! This, this isn't complicated, this is a fucking _nightmare_. You _say_ you don't want this but why did you solidify the bite? And I _know_ you can break a claim, I _know_ you can, you’re just not _doing_ it! And if you're being so fucking noble, why do you keep dragging me around, or _touching_ me, or growling and forcing me to-?!"

"Caroline," the wolf said, and ducked to haul her over his shoulder, striding to drop her in the soft pile in the den. "You need to calm down."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING MIND-?!" she shrieked.

Klaus dropped into a crouch faster than her human eyes could process him moving, and for a terrifying second, Caroline went still, catching her shout. The Alpha hadn't actually touched her, as yet, but the threat to lingered over her like a physical weight.

When he didn't do anything, Caroline crawled away. She turned around to keep him in her sights at all times, giving a frustrated huff when her body didn't move as quickly as she would've liked it to. Her hand self-consciously closed over the side of her throat, where his eyes were lingering on the sag of the collar. She curled down into a ball, chin to her knees, back braced against the wall, waiting.

Nothing happened.

"What?" Caroline goaded.

"When you feel a little less like I might kill you-" Klaus tried.

"I want you to kill me," she said waspishly. She shook all over, but lifted her chin. "I'd rather be a dead human than a living monster!"

"A monster, you say?" His tone was pleasant. Dangerously so. There was a sudden glitter in his eyes that spoke to an impossible madness, and Caroline closed her other hand over her throat, hiding what the collar couldn't. "Have I been so truly monstrous to you?"

"Have you shown me any humanity?!" she said loudly. She was proud of the volume, but not the clear cowering she was currently doing.

"I haven't hurt you any more than was due," he said.

She sucked in a shocked breath.

"Are you..." She narrowed her eyes. "Serious?"

"I've never been more serious."

"Oh, fuck _you_," she retorted. "I did _not_ deserve to be drugged and stolen out of my own bedroom to be put in the middle of some - perverted mating run-!"

"It's not perverted-"

"The hell it isn't! Where do you get off, huh? At the running and the screaming and the crying?"

"It's the bloody run," he said darkly. "The thrill of the chase. Predator and prey."

"And you think I deserve that?" she asked shrilly. "You really think I deserve to be put in the middle of your weird sex-hunger games? I'm A VIRGIN."

"You are not," he scoffed.

And for some reason, that was what made her burst into tears. She sobbed loudly, and very openly, feeling a rush of embarrassment overwhelm her. So what if the gross werewolf thought she was lying? It _was_ a lie. Like a tiny lie, anyway. Tyler had only had sex with her the once, and it had _hurt_. It was only for like... a handful of minutes. It hadn't counted to her way of thinking, because she'd been holding out for 'next time'.

She clamped both hands over her mouth and looked over the top of the with tears spilling as she blinked.

He did not look any version of comfortable. Which was good.

"This...thing," she said, shakily wiping her face with both hands, pressing her palms together under her chin. The new tears just ran different tracks on her cheeks, and she didn't bother wiping them. "With the touching and the carrying and the sleeping. Will that... make you not bite me again?"

Klaus looked down.

"Yes," he said. "The more contact, the more my scent marks you. As long as you're marked enough for my wolf to recognize the claim, there won't be a bite... unless-"

"Unless I don't do what you want me to do, like I have been all morning," Caroline said tartly. "Will that turn me into a werewolf?"

"You'll be made to feel as if you were. It's... primal chastisement," he murmured. "You won't want to leave, and you'll likely do as I say for a time. But again, I won't do that unless you misbehave."

"I always misbehave," she whispered. "You're gonna hurt me for as long as you don't kill me."

Klaus didn't wince, exactly, but he kind of - ticked. He lifted his eyes back to Caroline and shook his head.

"I don't mind misbehavior generally," he said uneasily.

"I think you don't mind your own," Caroline guessed. "But you couldn't even handle me throwing up instead of eating, like I have a choice right now."

"Yes. Well. You'll get better," he said quietly, and Caroline chewed the inside of her mouth, putting her forehead to her knees, hugging her bag and hunching her shoulders. "It doesn't always hurt. When I bite you."

"Spoken like someone who's never been bitten," she muttered.

Klaus huffed.

"I've been around for other claims. They're supposed to be... nice."

"Sure," Caroline said.

"They are," Klaus reiterated firmly. "Nice. Other claims. I've seen it. Ours doesn't have to be unpleasant because it wasn't planned."

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, sniffing, resting her head on the part of her arm that didn’t hurt.

So, the way she saw it... she had to stick it out for like, a handful of days at least. Hopefully, that would be enough time so Klaus wouldn't hover so much and maybe trust her, a little. She had to bide her time; it was common knowledge that claimed humans didn't like physical distance from their Alphas. There were a hundred bodice ripper stories starting with an unwanted claim, and they all ended in rutting with the Alpha like bitches in heat, regardless if they were human or wolf.

"What are you thinking?" the Alpha muttered.

Caroline shrugged again.

In the meantime, she had to avoid upsetting the Alpha and 'forcing' him to turn her into a werewolf, because that was the only way she would for certain never go home.

Unless he killed her?

"Tell me what would make this easier on you," Klaus said. "Caroline. If I can, I will. I can make this easy on you."

"I don't want anything."

"You're lying." The Alpha tapped his ear, reminding Caroline that he could hear her liar’s heart – which, _great,_ another thing to have to worry about when she was actively planning to run away.

"Unless you want to try and mindfreak me into saying-"

"I'm not going to do that."

"Then let me call my mom."

Klaus growled, then shut his eyes and turned his face away.

"I can't let you get taken from me, Caroline," he said tightly. "You don't understand. I need you here."

"Yeah, well I need to call my mom," she spat back. "And I need to know who got out of last night alive."

Klaus’ jaw tightened.

He shook his head with an audible growl of frustration before digging in his pocket and bringing out an iPhone, swiping it open and typing in a pass code. He texted someone, then tapped something into the phone, crawled to sit beside Caroline, and hung over her as he passed over the phone.

The Beacon Hills Journal was on the screen - blurry photos of Lydia in a state of disarray (but still blindingly beautiful in her silky golden nightdress), Archie's cut, bruised face, and Allison with an arrow nocked, half aimed behind her. In the darkness, the two pinpricks of yellow.

Caroline scrolled, devoured the information, but it wasn't what she wanted to read. The police knew who set it up but without an Alpha to rein him in, the 'Gamemaster' would go prosecuted in wolven territory until the Alphas caught up to him.

Lydia was physically fine aside from four scratches too shallow to do anything but heal cleanly. Archie had been in the thick of it, resorting to his fists when his friend, Betty Cooper, was caught by an Alpha. She had a nasty bite but it was only meant to hurt, not to claim or Bond her. Allison didn't have a single scratch on her, not even on her feet. She'd scored her entire cache of weapons and supplies and had been patrolling in the forest to save Betty's hide and to steer Lydia to safety, going back in twice before someone cuffed her to a car to stop her from going in a third time.

And to their knowledge, Mathew Donovan and Caroline Forbes were dead or worse.

"Your friend got out," Klaus muttered. "The red head."

"Of course she did." Her head was spinning. She was staring at the end of the article and thinking, thinking, thinking. "I knew she would."

"But not the boy you asked after." There was a pause. "Mathew."

She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.

Klaus took the phone from Caroline's numb hands, and tucked it back into his pocket. He eased against the wall to give the girl some space, but was sitting so close that their thighs were touching.

And usually, Caroline's mouth would be going a hundred miles a minute. But her brain was so cold it was moving slowly.

She didn't know why, but she leaned her cheek to the Alpha's bicep and kind of... rubbed her face on him. Kept rubbing her face against him, until the wolf lifted his arm and Caroline crashed into his chest. Her arms were wrapped around her bag, but she couldn't make her head move away, sweltering under the heat that was the wolf's body; listening to the steady thump-thump against her ear drum.

Caroline checked the phone out of the corner of her eye while she mashed her face against the burning wolf's chest. An iPhone. She hadn’t seen the code, except for the first digit, which was a 1.

Her brain ticked over, all those books and studies on culture, until she recalled.

"Am I...?" she looked up, dull. "Is this, like... _mourning,_ to you?"

"Yes." Klaus had closed his eyes, but opened one to address the human. "We call it keening."

"The claim makes me worse, doesn't it?" she said. "With instincts and stuff. Makes me more wolfy."

Klaus nodded, and cupped his gentle hand around Caroline's arm, rubbing softly.

"Keening isn't solely for wolves, Caroline. You miss your home. You miss your friends. You're hurt and tired. Of course you're going to... Be upset."

"But I don't deal with it... I don't deal with it like this," she muttered, and planted her skull back down on the wolf's chest. "This isn't fair. I don't want to touch you."

Klaus went stiff all over but inhaled for a long seven seconds, something Caroline was acutely aware of, being on his chest. There was a pause, his heart thudded twice, and then he exhaled, resuming the petting of the human's arm.

"I am sorry," he said finally. "That you got caught."

Caroline waited for more to come, but the Alpha went quiet.

"Are you sorry that you claimed me?"

Because honestly, that was all Caroline wanted to hear.

"No," the wolf said, and Caroline sat up straight, shoved his hand back at him. "I'll never be sorry for that."

With throbbing feet, she stood, crossed the room, and sat heavily against the opposite wall, hugging her bag and plumping it up with aggravated punches. The Alpha just watched, shoulders curling down, eyes big and blue and stupidly innocent, set in such a hard, handsome face.

"Stop _looking _at me like that," she snapped.

The wolf did not stop.

"Can you hate me from back here?" He motioned back under his arm. "I'll let you punch me if it makes you feel better."

Briefly, she considered. Hiding the mace in her hand, punching the wolf until she ripped the seal off and sprayed his face with the wolfsbane. Maybe she would shove it into his throat and keep pressing the button, until one of the other pack members got her.

No. Until she knew how many was in his pack, and where they were, she wouldn't make such a move.

Caroline turned her head away, stared out the window, and hugged her bag a fraction tighter. She had to hold on, had to wait and learn. It was going to be so hard for her to keep still, to not jump the gun on her plans. For all she knew, she was in the middle of some kind of werewolf suburbia, hidden behind the trees. She just didn't have enough information.

But when she did, ooh buddy. That wolf was gonna rue the day he dared mess with Caroline freakin' Forbes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed the author (who is trying to move houses)


	6. Tantrum (over-due)

That entire day, she cried on and off. More than once, Klaus shuffled over to her - she would cozy up to him for a minute or two - and then she would cross the room and turn away from him again.

"The more you reject me," he warned her. "The more my soul calls to have you in my arms. It would be in your best interest-"

"If you try and touch me again-!" she snapped, her eyes blurry from the many tears she'd shed. To her, he was a blur of beige and red henley, with two pinpricks of warming yellow eyes. "I will literally-! LIT-ER-ALLY! Kill you!"

"You feel better for having me touch you," he hissed. "You feel better with my hands on you. Don't pretend you don't because it's merely expected-!"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME!" she shouted, and just because this had been on repeat for hours, by that point, decided to fly completely off the rails. She got up and thought what a good idea it would be to start wrecking his stuff.

The den was all soft pillows and blankets, so she stormed across the hall and straight by the front door in order to jerkily snatch a vase off the nearest table and yeet the sucker at his head.

He caught it.

What a dick!

She took the end of the little display table and upended it between them, then yanked on the curtains until they tore from the rod holding them up. She tore the stuffing out of the pillow, swung the empty case at a painting of a pretty landscape, and then took the mounted TV in both hands and ripped it out of the wall after a few rough pulls.

When all of this heeded no resistance from him, she looked at him and waited. Death? A beating? Maybe he'd bite her again?

"Are you quite done?" he drawled.

So Caroline took that as an invitation.

"I DON'T WANT YOU!" Smash went the glass of the coffee table when she bashed the TV remote through the glass, and then overturned that, too. "I DON'T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU! I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"I'm no stranger to tantrums," he told her, and sounded bored. "I'll wait."

Somehow she heard him over the sound of her picking up the sound system and throwing it fairly pathetically at the window. When it didn't smash like she wanted it to, she went over to it and picked it up again, holding the base of the wires to get a good grip on swinging the damn thing corner first into the glass. It still didn't break the window, but a plastic corner cracked and dropped to the floor.

"Bulletproof," he advised.

Caroline dumped it and took a high candle holder, which had a decent heft to it.

"WHAT ABOUT THE WALLS?! ARE THEY BULLETPROOF?!"

As it turned out, several fist sized holes later, they were not.

When that stopped being any fun, she threw the candleholder at him - and missed so badly he didn't even move out of the way. She marched herself toward the kitchen, yanking open a cupboard and dragging the plates out to smash over the tops of her feet. It _hurt_, and it didn't make the most sense, but doing the most damage satisfied her idiot monkey brain.

So she kept going. It was a miracle she didn't slice her feet open seriously - a few spots bled here and there, but she was fairly numb to it.

She pulled out the rangehood and bent it over her knee, she dropped the wooden cooking utensils in the garbage disposal and turned it on. She swiped her arm through the champagne flutes and innocent wine glasses, and then took a meat hammer from a draw and went to work on the wooden window sills. (The counters were marble or rock and didn't break, although she gave one a solid enough whack that a chip flew off.)

Then she took that hammer, and started breaking the hallway walls as she went, and smashing the few things he had on the walls. She whirled, watching him follow with his brow raised and mouth pursed, and hit the wall so hard her entire fist was swallowed by plaster.

"IF YOU DON'T LET ME WALK, I WON'T STOP!"

"Demolish what you like," he told her with a shrug. "I have more money than you can conceptualize."

She _boiled_.

This man... was literally... going to force her to murder him.

She threw the hammer at his head, and he caught that too. He put that in the circle of his belt loop and leaned his shoulder to the wall, indicating with a wave of his hand at the destruction around them.

"Now what will you break the walls with, hm?" he said, and seemed to be... amused?

Which, oh yeah, made her _even more mad_.

She wanted to _hurt him_. Hurting his shit wasn't making a dent in his facade. She tried to even her breathing but she'd gotten so worked up, and her stomach stung.

Her stomach?

She pulled up her shirt to see the five points of his claws, that marked her belly, were torn and bleeding. She pressed her hand over it and winced, then looked beyond her hand at her feet, a small pool of blood under her right foot.

"Finished now?" he guessed lightly.

"I_ am_ going to get out of here," she promised sullenly. That was not what she meant to say. But like usual, her words just kept coming - this time, though, she wanted them to sting him. "You can do your big bad Alpha thing all you want, and pretend like you're in charge here."

"I am in charge," he assured her.

"No," she said. "You're not. I'm smarter than you think I am, and I _will_ get away from you."

"_Caroline_," he warned lowly. He took a step towards her.

"Don't you touch me unless you're gonna kill me." Her lips upturned and she maintained eye contact with him. "Are you gonna kill me?"

"No."

"Then let me go," she demanded. "I don't want to be here, and you're not going to want me, trust me, you don't want me-"

"Something about you is all the wolf wanted," he argued. "My human side had very little say in the matter. This is beyond you as a person-"

"The people who love me don't even want me," she told him desperately. "Just - just kill me. Because I won't be a monster like you."

"No," he said silkily. "You won't. Unless that's what'll make you hold your tongue, of course."

"Don't," she said. "Don't threaten me with that."

"Why shouldn't I? It shuts you up."

Time to change tack, and get him off the train of thought that lead her to being made a monster.

"If you don't let me go, I will run," she promised him. "And if I run, I will talk. To everyone. I will let everyone know exactly what you've done to me. But if you let me go-"

"I'm not going to let you walk away from me, for fucks sake!" he exploded, making claws at her.

"If you let me run, I won't say anything to anyone!"

"You won't have to worry about that, because you're never going back!"

"Yes I fucking am," she said, shaking. "And you know, don't you? Know I'm smart. Know I'm good for it. You think you won just because you bit me and marked me and brought me back to the den? Because you've locked me up? Cages can be broken. Collars can be unlocked. Marks fade. I'll be gone before the next bite."

She stared at the wolf, yellow and black eyes, tipped teeth, claws out. She wasn't any more scared than she already was.

She didn't even flinch when Klaus growled loudly, but when he dropped the vase he'd caught earlier and it smashed, she pressed herself full body against the wall. But he didn't come for her - he bounded out the hall, out the front door.

It was impossible. Impossible, that he'd just... left her there. She blinked stupidly at the place he'd vacated for a good two minutes, expecting that he'd come back.

"Right," she sniffed. "If the rest of the pack is going to come out now and harass me, can we please get it over with?"

No one said anything. A wind blew in through the front door. Outside, a pair of birds sang prettily to each other in the low evening light, stirring in the absence of a predator.

Caroline hugged her bag still around her shoulder and reveled in the silence. It was truly something deafening. Her eyes drifted to the charging station but it was empty of a phone. She peered down the hall, but there was nothing there.

"Seriously?" she said under her breath. Then, louder: "I'm not making a move now, Klaus. Get your panties out of a twist and tell your pack to come out from wherever they're hiding."

She waited a moment, and then put her bag determinedly to the side.

"I'll walk out the front door!" she warned him, and started heading for it.

Only when she got there, her idiot hand decided to _shut it_. She stared at the shut door for like, a good twenty seconds, and rationalized that she was just being safe; there was no telling what the rest of the pack would do if she tried to make a run for it. Or how many other wolves were outside!

Klaus had taken his phone, so instead of calling for help she got a chance to explore the rest of the house, taking one of the plentiful steak knives from the drawer and hiding it in the duffle she refused to put down. There was an office - the laptop was password protected, and after three tries it locked her out. She scowled at it, and frisbee'd it at a wall with a satisfying _crunch_. There were two paintings in there she took a pen to and doodled little stick figures on.

One depicted a blonde human decapitating a dog-like creature, the other was a huge veiny dick.

"I'm coming upstairs!" she called, and marched herself up. "Whoever is there, don't be naked!"

The initial room was another smaller lounge area, one with a huge window that opened out to see a spill of high trees and forest.

Leaning forward with her hands on the back of a grey couch, she looked out to see miles and miles of trees. What she could tell from the view was that it didn't have any wall cutting through the human-wolf boarder. Her home was absolutely in another direction. She smiled at it, because it was just another part of getting home that was solved.

There were five rooms, all in various shades of grey or navy, except for the last and smallest room, which was a bright shock of yellow. The reveal of it in that drab, serious house made Caroline stare at it with her mouth open.

More alarmingly, these rooms were carefully tailored to suit different personalities, and were dressed in tasteful decor and luxury items. Every single one had its own attached bathroom, which was obviously madness, and made the house somewhat a mansion. But there was no one actively living in them, and no one had been inside in quite a bit of time. Caroline could smell the dust, and taste the stale air.

"Hello?" she called out, but she'd now checked every room in the house and there was no one there. Even the master suite, which was - just ridiculous in size - stood empty and forgotten. It was Klaus' room, because there was a pile of clothes in a wash basket and the wardrobe stood open, but the bed was neatly made, so she assumed he always slept in the den.

The yellow room was just... so her speed. The walls were all warm and buttery, the architraves white to compliment them. The bed, like the others, was huge and high from the ground, only this one had white posts. It had a decidedly feminine touch, which was... a little weird.

She cracked a massive yawn, a swoop of dizziness washing over her head.

_I'll just shut my eyes for a minute, and then I'll run_, she remembered thinking as she ambled toward the bed. _I'll just lay down and gather my nerve, and then..._

* * *

Except she slept solidly. Like, didn't move from where she initially laid down, _slept hard_. Like a statue, or a dead woman. 

She rolled over at a small provocation, not sure what had made her stir. Lifting her head, cracking open one blurry eye, she couldn't see anything in the dim light spilling in from the moon outside. It was night time? But it had been morning when Klaus had left. She felt dead. Sluggish, and achy, and still hugging the bag to her chest.

Caroline got the bright idea to maybe get the fuck up and start running, when the swift dark shadow of the Alpha skidded across the floor to vault onto the bed and clamp around her like a koala.

The entirety of his body was flush against Caroline's front but... she didn't care. She just sighed, eyes half lidded, and tucked under Klaus' chin.

"I thought you'd hurt me when you came back. I was waiting to be hurt again," she confessed, mumbled, into the hollow of the wolf's throat. “Don’t hurt me.”

"No." Wuffing at her pulse, sliding his hand under her hoodie to hold her bare skin, pulling Caroline's body even closer. He let out a small groan. "I don't want to _hurt _you."

"What do you want, then?"

He swallowed loud enough for the human to hear it, and unsubtly ignored the question.

"You're _exhausted_,” the Alpha said, rubbing his face all over Caroline, dragging his rough stubble over her cheek, neck, inhaling hard at her pulse.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"....Mmmn." The Alpha was making purring noises. "M'scenting."

"Why?"

"Smell good."

Caroline became kind of aware of the pizza smell in the room, but was distracted by Klaus putting his bare hand around Caroline’s shoulder and holding her just a little closer.

The wolf huffed, rubbed his nose over her cheek, down around to her neck.

"I left too long." He hugged Caroline a little tighter.

"Too long?" Caroline repeated. "Does it make it worse when you're away?"

"_I told you that_," the wolf hissed, and draped a heavy leg over Caroline's hips, dragging her closer with a single flex of his thigh.

"Don't go away, any more," Caroline said, dreamily. "I hate when you touch me."

"I know." He put his flat teeth around Caroline's collar, prodded the notches with his tongue gently. He sort of gnawed at her shoulder and pulled the shirt away to suck at her bare skin - blunt nails dragged over her back and it felt good enough for Caroline to sigh, arch into him. "That? You like that?"

"It’s not horrible."

The wolf carefully scratched her back, breathing hard and heavy when Caroline moved around, made happy noises in his throat when Caroline rubbed her nose under his jawline.

"I want to make you feel nice," the Alpha told her, kind of engulfing her in his hard, heated body. "Make you feel good. I want to make you feel so nice you don't want to leave."

"Not gonna happen."

"Let me try."

Caroline wasn't sure who was using her mouth, but it was strictly not her. There was a small pause when Caroline considered letting the wolf try and make her feel nice, instead of the rough, shovvy, biting treatment she'd received.

"Sure," she said sleepily. "I don't handle pain well."

The wolf purred, kissing her neck, rubbing her spine, dragging the tip of his nose along the pulse lazily banging in Caroline's throat. When she didn't resist, Klaus sucked on her earlobe, drawing it into his mouth, pulling gently until Caroline squirmed, heated feelings flooding from Klaus’ mouth down to her toes.

"Klaus," she said, slightly woozy.

The wolf made happy noises, and kept sucking.

"My lip," she murmured. "Hurts. Can you fix that?"

Klaus managed to drag himself away from Caroline's ear to lap at her lip where it had been cut and swollen. Then he was kissing her, once, twice and again, so gentle. The kisses were all innocent with careful flicks of his tongue, while Caroline shut her eyes and relaxed completely.

She was kissing him back, just, existing, in that aware-not-care void with the wolf's hands on her bare skin, when Klaus rolled them over and settled on Caroline, making her aware of two things.

One, Klaus was hard as a rock.

Two, her panties were like, extremely wet.

She groaned, and Klaus growled softly, letting go of Caroline's mouth to whuff at her pulse. Caroline felt drunk - sliding her hands up Klaus’ sides and timidly dragging her fingers into the wolf's back.

"You can do more," Klaus encouraged through slightly elongated teeth, eyes the absurd dirty green color and wide and on his face. He was breathing hard as he kissed Caroline's nose, and then her cheeks. "If you want."

"You're -" Caroline struggled. There was a dull screaming part of her brain warning her to shut up, but that was basically her life story to ignore it. "_Hard_, all over."

The wolf ducked his head back to the human’s shoulder and nuzzled in until he nearly hid in Caroline's armpit.

"Do you mind?" he mumbled.

"Uhm." She had to think about it. "Like, the muscles I don't mind. You're - really fit. Is that like, because of you as a person or because you're a wolf? Like, how much of that is... you...?"

Klaus appeared to be trying to hide his chuckling in Caroline's hoodie. It wasn't working.

"It's me," he confirmed.

"Oh. Like, good for you. The raging hard on you're trying to poke me with, though," Caroline went on, making the wolf raise his head. "Makes me feel weird and scared."

Klaus lifted his hips, apologizing in a low rumble that Caroline felt tremble in her bones. She shrugged, leaned up and kissed Klaus again, which made Klaus smile and roll Caroline on top of him. There was some more lazy making out. And Caroline kind of sat there, astride the wolf's waist, for a reeeeeallly long time, considering who she was and what situation she was in.

She sort of came to because she'd started making these rocking movements with her hips, trying to grind against Klaus’ muscles while her hands more urgently dug into the wolf's hair. Klaus remained gentle, drawing short, sharp nails against her back until she sat up, feeling confused and groggy.

There was a pause while the making out with her captor caught up with her. And Caroline, really, Caroline was angry, of course she was. But she was mostly terrified, because she'd never have done it if Klaus hadn't touched her. And that power - that was scarier than the full wolf out and potential mating run she'd been on.

"You’re alright," Klaus said, hands hovering just over Caroline's thighs like he wanted to stop the tremors with a squeeze. "You’re alright. I didn't mean to let it go that far. I didn't know-"

Caroline climbed off him, staring with wide eyes as she got to her feet beside the bed and wiped her sleeve over her mouth.

The wolf looked fucked out. Mouth open and pink, shiny and slick, hair a mess. He was clearly more than ready to keep going, legs open, dick hard in his jeans. His shirt was all screwed up, and lifted on one side. The wolf raised to lean on his elbows, swallowing loudly.

"I didn't know that leaving you for that long would-... I underestimated -" he stopped, swallowed again, licked his sharp teeth as Caroline's back hit a wall. "I won't do it again. You’re alright. I’m not going to do it again."

Caroline didn't know what to do with all the _feelings_. And like - she was a healthy teenager with urges, and spontaneous make-outs were something that happened when hormones were a thing she dealt with on the reg. But she really, really didn't feel competent enough to stop bracing against the wall in horror, shaking all over now, knees ready to give out.

Because she hadn’t meant to kiss him. She hadn’t meant to roll her body on top of him. She had been out of her mind and happy to keep going, and that was _so fucking scary_.

"Caroline?" Klaus sat up more fully. Caroline said nothing, just shook her head. Klaus ran a hand through his hair, smoothed it out while he looked down at how her knees turned in. "I'm not going to hurt you, love."

Caroline didn't believe it. She hiccuped, held onto the stuttered breath, and inched sideways, further into a corner. 

"Are -?" Klaus stopped, got on his knees, hands lifted to show surrender, looking sad and frowny and still hot as hell, a red flush worked up around his throat and on his cheekbones. "What can I do?"

Caroline was barely blinking, hardly breathing, her chest jumping hard. She shook her head which made her eyes squint, and tears she didn't know she had well and fall without permission.

Klaus looked devastated. His mouth moved without sound. His arms lowered a fraction.

"Caroline?" he said, softly. "It's alright, love. Tell me what I can do."

Caroline sat slowly with her back to the corner, hunching forward. She could taste Klaus in her mouth, and her traitorous tongue kept tasting where the wolf had healed. Her arms went up around her head as though she expected him to hit her.

"Just leave me alone," she said into her knees. She sobbed, caught her breath. Her eyes were shut so tightly white stars were bursting on her lids. "Please. Please, Klaus - please, leave me alone."

Caroline waited until she was sure the wolf had gone - not having heard him move but missing the sense of sad eyes weighing on the top of her skull. She snuck a peek and confirmed that she was alone. There was every possibility that he could hear her, but she cried anyway, trying to muffle it by biting her sleeve covered fist.

There wasn't a lot she could do if Klaus could make her do things. The wolf was faster and stronger and even if Caroline hated herself for kissing him and touching him and all that jazz, she'd done it because Klaus had used some stupid animal instinct thing against her.

If Caroline ever ran away and Klaus found her... how could Caroline make herself leave again? If Klaus had methods, as in, plural methods to keep her in line... she wouldn't _want_ to run away by the time he was done with her.

So she'd need to take her one shot and make it right.

But at that point, she didn't want to run. She just wanted to be in her right mind. She didn't want to risk it.

But she also didn't want to push Klaus away, as much as she was at loathe to touch him. The more distance she kept between them, the more Klaus would wanna touch her, and force her to want it too. He said as much, and her 'animal instinct' told her it was true and correct.

By that time, it would've been about ten minutes. She managed to uncurl slightly and lift her swollen eyes and gulp down the cracked noise her voice tried to offer up as speech. She couldn't hear where he was.

"Klaus?" she said, almost a whisper.

There was silence, then the sheepish Alpha poked his head around the corner, eyebrows pitched in the middle. Like he'd just been waiting there, beyond her sight.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello," Her voice broke. Frustrated and still shaking, she scrubbed her face. Couldn't look at the wolf when she continued: "Please come in here."

The wolf shuffled into the room, pausing before her.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Just… come here.”

He took in a few more steps, and stayed out of arm’s reach.

“I shouldn’t have left,” he offered. “I thought at worst, I would want to sleep wrapped around you – that I could hold out until you were sleeping. I overestimated what distance would do to me. It isn’t like this for… other things, with wolves.”

“Like when you mate someone?” she clarified weakly.

“Yes,” he murmured.

“How is it different?”

“When a wolf selects a mate, there’s some… playful biting,” he said softly. “And while they wear those marks, they are a wolf’s mate. There’s a necessity to protect them, and they are considered honorary pack.”

“I’m honorary pack?” 

“Of the highest order,” he said. “You’ve a higher ranking than a mate. An Alpha’s claimed has a higher rank than most others in a pack. You’re second only to an Alpha’s Bonded.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said wetly, and wiped her face. She managed to look up at him, and he wet his lips. “D-Do you…? Can...?”

“Yes?”

“Can you come here, please?” she said, and patted the spot next to her.

He moved beside her in what she would consider a measured way. His body, she could feel, was coiled tighter than a spring; she guessed he wanted to crash into her like he had earlier.

She swallowed. Because fuck, if leaving her alone meant he'd make her want to... touch him, then she would just... touch him, and avoid it being taken from her. Slowly, she planted her face first at the juncture of Klaus’ neck and shoulder, arms protectively clamping over her throat.

They sat like that for a long time. Too long. Her legs felt staticy and her ass was numb. She may or may not have even watched the moon move against the high window panes.

"C-Can I -?" she stuttered. Her mouth was shaking, tongue clumsy. "Can I - shower? Alone?"

"You can have privacy, Caroline," the wolf said. Caroline wasn't sure why the quiet agreement was worse than the short sharp 'no' she'd expected. "I can get you some of my clothes. I don't have any ladies' things here.”

"Th-thanks-" she hiccuped. "Thanks, Klaus."

He rubbed his cheek against her head and got up to leave.

While he was gone, Caroline stood and fled to the bathroom attached to the yellow bedroom. Her wobbly legs barely cooperated. She left the door open so he wouldn't get the bright idea to kick it down. She sat on the shut lid of the toilet and waited, feeling blood flow into the bottom of her feet.

When Klaus came back, he put the new clothes in on the sink and met her gaze in the mirror. He looked away almost immediately, shoulders hiked like hackles.

"I won't have to touch you always," he admitted. "What we have... it's new, and resisting makes it worse. The need to be near you. The urges to keep you in my hands... That'll pass."

"Okay," she whispered.

Klaus searched her blank, swollen face. 

“I'm happy to leave you to shower," he said quietly. "I want to trust you with privacy. But if you hurt yourself, I’m coming right back in, and I won’t ever leave you alone again.”

Caroline blinked at him.

“I told you, killing myself is not my style,” she said around the thick wad of fear in her throat. “I’d rather just make you mad enough to do it for me.”

Klaus flinched like Caroline had insulted his mother. His whole face actively scrunched like he smelled something horrible. But he said nothing to it, so she estimated that he was being his version of considerate.

"I won't kill you," he murmured.

She rubbed the collar.

"Can-... Can I- take this off?"

"To shower," he said softly. "But you must wear it."

"I hate it," she whimpered.

"It's too important for you not to wear it," he said, firming his tone. "I don't even want it off you in the shower. Don't push."

"'Don't push'," she echoed dully, hanging her head. "My life story."

He didn't say anything. He just shut the door behind him on his way out.

Caroline even locked it, for more her peace of mind than anything it might actually do to stop the Alpha. She stripped everything but the collar; the thought of having to replace it was just, too much. Better to leave it be.

As she showered her gaze went down to her traitorous pussy, slightly pink and oddly sensitive. She wondered if it was the Alpha controlling it that had made so wet, or if it was just the way he had kissed her.

Because the guy was unfortunately an A+ kisser.

The shower was scalding, all hot water, none cold. It hurt and burned, pouring over stinging wounds that hadn't fully healed on her chest, stomach, legs, arms and feet. But she put her hands up on the tiles and let it burn, let it score down her spine and leave red skin in its wake. When she felt sufficiently boiled enough, she turned on the cold water and rinsed with soap, drying and dressing while the shower was still on.

When her body wasn't red so much as pink, she reached back in and turned it off, before waiting for several long minutes with her butt on the sink, readying herself for the wolf. His clothes hung off her, wafting of his unique smell.

She unlocked the door with her heart in her throat, but nothing happened.

"Okay, you can come and carry me if you want," she said, and the door opened instantly.

She lifted her arms, let the wolf huff at her throat and put arms around her waist, tucking into her much like he had earlier that day. Caroline made her fists stay slung over the wolf's shoulder, let the Alpha stand between her knees even if they were shaking.

"Do you want pizza?" Klaus muttered.

"No."

"Just a slice?"

"No."

"...Please eat," Klaus said in a low baritone. "Don't make me force it."

Caroline nodded, chin wobbling.

Klaus lifted her under the thighs, taking her to the bed she had chosen and opening the pizza box on her lap. He sat close enough beside her that their knees were touching, staring at his hands while Caroline chewed, swallowed, and started again.

When she felt so full that she could nearly feel the food pile up at the back of her throat and was in danger of throwing it up, she pushed the box at Klaus, who took it and left it on the bedside table. Caroline just pulled her new hoodie strings tight enough to make the hood bunch up at the nape of her neck, and weighed it down with a hand for good measure.

"I won't leave you like that again,” he promised. "Not even if you try to hurt me."

Caroline didn't want to _try_ and hurt Klaus. She shrugged.

"Take me to the den," she mumbled.

"You can have this room," he offered quietly. "It suits you. You can have it to sleep."

"No," she said.

He breathed out long through his nose, but ultimately didn't push the point.

She lifted her arms, let herself be carried back into the den. She sat where Klaus put her and waited until he had turned the lights off and laid down on his back before she scooted closer, putting a twitchy hand out on the Alpha's bicep.

She could see the wolf relaxing, even felt the tightness of the muscle loosen under her palm. Caroline put her forehead to the wolf's arm, and flinched when the wolf shifted.

"Caroline," he said lowly. "Say something."

But Caroline had nothing to say.

Klaus reached out and touched the back of her hand, rubbing gently.

"I won't stay away that long so the urges will be controllable," he stroked down Caroline's long fingers. "I'm not going to force you to mate me."

"Okay," Caroline said.

There was a long pause.

"You don't believe me."

"I believe you." She didn't.

The wolf flinched.

"I can hear..." he started off quietly. "I know you're lying."

"Okay," Caroline said, and stared at nothing. In the dark, having slept all day, she couldn't dream of sleeping again, let alone with the Alpha.

"I won't," the wolf said, and sounded pretty legit. He swallowed. "What can I do, now, to make you feel better?"

Caroline shut her eyes.

"Go to sleep," she suggested.

The wolf, to her surprise, agreed quietly and did as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author eats reviews


	7. Names

Waking up in a sweat was never any good. It was even worse when the sweat was due to a particularly clingy Alpha.

The fact that she'd even slept was like, amazing. Because honestly? She'd been completely unconscious most of the day before, so. Sleep shouldn't have been something she was capable of.

Caroline inched forward out of the cradle of Klaus' body, breathing funnily. She had to hold her breath as she took his wrist in her hand, going stiff when he tightened his grip on her. There was a moment of impossible stillness.

"Where are you going?" he asked the back of her head.

"Nowhere," she whispered. She held her breath, shoulders hiking upward in a lame attempt to stop him from taking a bite out of her neck. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he grunted, and lifted his arm from around her. She heard him yawn, and felt him stretch, before he got up and stepped over her. He cast a half lidded look over his shoulder as he stood in the foyer. "Coffee?"

She managed to murmur a negative and waited until he had gone to the kitchen before she rolled onto her back, relieved at the onslaught of cool space on her over-heated skin. Her brain was thumping, a post-crying headache tucked nice and tight behind her eyes. She stared at the glass roof, the shut wooden blinds, and imagined it was iron bars.

It might as well have been. She was a prisoner, after all.

Caroline sat up and pushed the covers away, taking the drawstrings on her borrowed track suit pants and pulling them tight. She pulled the cords until they bit into her hips, and then tied it off in a double knot.

She was pretty convinced her make-shift chastity belt would do absolutely nothing to stop any potential invaders, but it served to give her a sense of preparedness.

Rolling up onto her knees, she crawled over to one of the den windows, pulling one of the slats down to peer out of it. All she saw was trees and some stylized pavers. The house was close to the woods, and there was nothing there.

When she heard the Alpha padding back toward the den, she guiltily shut the blind and sat on her backside, pulling a stray blanket up over her legs. She watched him enter, observe her having moved, and took a seat an arm's length from her knee.

He sipped his coffee, staring at her over the top of the mug.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked plainly.

She shook her head.

"Not hungry."

"That's not what I asked," he growled. There was no yellow in his eyes to denote the wolf, but there didn't need to be. It was in the vibration in his chest. An all animal noise, something she could only hope to mock and never recreate. "I haven't touched anything so you can make your own."

Her knees came up and she hugged them.

"Okay," she said softly.

"That," he snapped. "Is still not answering the fucking question."

"I don't know-" she tried weakly.

His phone dinged, and he flipped it out of his pocket, giving the message a quick read. He bared his teeth at the device, and tapped out a text with one hand, his thumb moving quickly over the keys.

Caroline watched him send it, then contemplate telling her.

"It's my friends," he explained sourly.

"You have friends?" she blurted.

He scowled at her, but it wasn't so heated that she felt the need to cower. Could she call that an improvement? Or did she not feel the need to cower because she was already in a ball?

"Yes, I have friends," he grumped. "They're concerned about you. And me."

"Why are they concerned about you?" she asked, genuinely curious. "I can't hurt _you_."

"You are convinced I'm going to hurt you," he scolded. "Is any amount of promising the alternative going to convince you I won't?"

"I'm an actions speak louder than words kind of girl," she told him, pursing her lips. "You hunted and bit me, and you forced me to kiss you. You tell me what I should think."

He turned side on for a moment, then flicked out his phone at a ping from another received text. He tapped back, then shoved it in his pocket. He didn't lock it - he let the automatic feature do that for him.

Which was _very interesting._

"I don't force you to do anything. What you do with your body is not under my control."

"Uh huh."

"Don't give me that attitude. I have Marcel and Camille who would like to meet you," he murmured. He studied the inside of his mug and then asked it: "Would you mind terribly if they came over to say hello?"

She felt her brow drawing in.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're right. I'll just invite a few of my friends over unannounced into our very happy and completely settled union."

"Ugh! Don't call it a union," she said quickly, making a face.

"That's the language that best fits our situation."

"'Situation' did a pretty good job if you ask me."

"Good thing I wasn't asking you, then." He looked at her, eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second. She didn't understand what the look implied - like, he _looked_ pretty peeved, truth be told - but the instinct in her chest surged bright and hot. He was amused? No. Not quite. She gave a little sniff of the air and understood that he was _pleased they were bantering_.

But... how was she understanding that, with a sniff?

She felt some of the tension of her grip leak out of her tightly held arms.

"Why do you want me to meet your friends?" 

"So they stop hounding me about what I'm doing with you," he said. "Also, so you can get more of my measure."

"Uh..." It took her a minute to think. "They want to come here?"

"Yes." He flicked his eyes at her crotch, then up to her mouth, before he looked at her again. "Camille is a young vampire, so as long as your wounds remain closed you won't have her struggle. Not that Marcel or myself would allow anything to happen to you, but I don't want to have her in that position."

"Wait, what? Why are you friends with vampires?" she asked him boldly. "I thought there was some kind of class divide?"

"There is." He shrugged. "I don't adhere to it."

She squirmed, because his gaze had dropped to her crossed legs again. She pulled on the blanket self consciously, and he averted his attention to the mug in his hand.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She didn't say anything. It wasn't okay.

He received another text and read it, before passing her the phone. As though it were a bomb ready to explode, Caroline took it, and gingerly had a look at what was being said.

**Camille:** We're coming over.

**Klaus:** I haven't spoken to Caroline yet.

**Camille:** Better start talking. We're in the car.

**Klaus:** You are not coming here if she doesn't give me a yes.

**Camille:** Have you asked her yet?

Caroline looked up at him and swallowed. It crossed her mind to take the phone and run, call her mom and shout down the line for help. There would be no conceivable way she could make it, however. The act of Klaus passing the phone over at all was like, a Big Deal.

So she tapped back: Come over. Caroline will be fine.

And handed the phone back.

"Can I get my bag?" she asked him.

"It's upstairs," he said, eyes flicking up from the screen.

Slowly, she got to her feet and stepped around him, waiting for him to do something nefarious, like yank on one of the blankets under her feet and make her fall over, or something. Her shoulders went up, and she found her hand closing on the bite mark on the nape of her neck as she walked quickly to the mouth of the den and up the stairs.

She hugged her bag when she found it, going through it quickly to find that none of the things inside had been taken. Most specifically, the sharp steak knife and the can of wolf-mace, which she held in her hand for a long moment, feeling the light-weight can.

She thumbed the special seal still unbroken around the top and breathed a little easier. She could meet vampires. The forest was essentially a bunch of stakes, right? All she needed was the opportunity to stab one of them.

Emerging with the bag slung over her shoulder, she stopped at the top of the stairs and chewed her lip.

"Hey..." she called down.

Klaus emerged from the den, arching a brow.

"Yes?"

"Uhm, where are my shoes?" she asked tentatively.

He blinked at her.

"I took them."

"Uh, yeah, okay... where are they?"

"Away."

"Like I get that. But where?"

"Let me be more clear." He shifted into full view and folded his arms over his chest. "I took them away and I'll not be giving them back."

Caroline frowned, and took a step down.

"Why?"

"Because if you're shoeless, you won't be as likely to run off on me," he said easily.

Her mouth popped open.

"Klaus..."

"Yes?"

"I-... I want my shoes back."

"Well you should've thought about that before you swore to make every effort to run," he said easily. "And meant it."

"They're _my_ shoes!" she exclaimed, voice pitching. "I have - I have a right to be able to wear my own fucking shoes!"

"Your reaction only tells me you meant to use them," he pointed out.

"OF COURSE I-!" she started, then stopped. The morning had been some kind of easy thus far, and she was strangely tired of riling him up and trying to fight him. At no stage did she want him to start on his humiliating Alpha touchy business with his little vampire buddies to bare witness, so she sat down on the stairs and strangled the bag, trying to compress her anger into the hug she gave it.

"That was easy," he goaded.

She didn't take the bait. She just stared at her bare feet on the stair and swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat.

"Would that also be why you haven't done anything to heal my feet?" she asked the stairs. "So I can't physically run off on you?"

He eyed her.

"Perhaps you are clever," he said, the tone of his voice mocking. "If not just a little slow."

Caroline shut her eyes. Her head hurt. It wasn't enough that he had her scared and manipulated, no, he was gonna go the whole mile and be belittling and awful in every other aspect.

His stride was far too measured, each step calculated as he climbed the staircase toward her. He lingered for a moment, his fingertips brushing over the beginnings of her truly grimy hair. She felt a flash of heat jump between them and leaned over to butt her head affectionately against his thigh.

"I'm going to shower," he murmured. His fingertips scratched lightly over her scalp and she rubbed her head against his hip. "I'll be listening to you, and I'll only be a handful of minutes. Don't even think about leaving this house without me. Make yourself something to eat before I come out, or I'll do it for you."

She wanted to scream at him. But where was screaming at him getting her?

Instead of speaking, she drew herself away and eased around him in a wide arc, batting open her lashes to at least see where she was going.

He was a monster. He might have some perceived standards about having full blown sex with the unwilling, but he was still violating her in literally every other way. What she ate, when she ate it; he advised how she should be feeling, and demanded she stop feeling the ways he didn't like.

But Caroline liked to buck the system, was her problem.

_If I was gonna hide his only pair of shoes? _she thought viciously_. And he had hurt feet? I'd probably hide them beyond broken glass and plates. _

Willfully, she ignored the still hot coffee in the machine and all the fixings for a casual breakfast to go snooping through shelves and peer into each one. She had to scoop away most of the damage with a stray shard of plate to make a step further into the kitchen. Her shoes were not in any of the lower cupboards. She climbed up onto a bench to see the top of the fridge, but there was only a pair of keys there.

_Ooh, I wonder what those are to? _

"They're not there," he said blandly, making her jump in fright. She fell off the bench and flinched as something sharp bit into the tender underside of her foot.

"Make some noise!" she snapped over her shoulder.

"Perhaps you would've heard me had you not been so focused on finding your shoes," he said flatly. "I'm a little too old to be hiding things on top of the fridge, for future reference."

She hissed through her teeth and picked up her foot, laying it up on the opposite thigh to inspect the damage. For all it was only a little cut, it bled enough that it dripped onto the floor.

"Oh, fantastic. Now you're bleeding. Just in time for my vampire friends to get here." He pursed his lips. "Come here, and I'll carry you."

"No," she said sharply, and reached for a dishtowel to pat away some of the excess blood. She felt for any wayward stinging to see if there was any glass or porcelain in the wound, but felt nothing. Nothing, that is, until she tied the cloth around her foot tightly and felt it flash with pain. Because of course she did. "Ow."

"Come here," he said again.

Instead of listening to him - because he was clearly doing such a good job of listening to her - she popped back up on the counter and turned, scooting across to the other side.

He put his body in between her knees and caught both of her hands as they made to shove him back, laying her fists flat against his chest.

She sighed, feeling the fight drain out of her. She was not as exhausted as she was the night before, but there was still a degree of bone deep lethargy in her. She willfully leaned her head to his shoulder, leaning against it. The feel of his hot hands smoothing up her back made her shut her eyes and sink into him, her hands going to his lower back to pull him closer.

"You're rather sweet," he noted.

"Only when you force me to be," was her soft reply.

"Nonsense. This is who you are." He pressed a small kiss against her temple. "Hold me tighter, sweetheart, and I'll take you to meet my people."

"No," she said. "I don't want to - I don't want them to see me like this. I want to walk."

"I would prefer to carry you," he mentioned. He inhaled at her ear and snuck a kiss against the hinge of her jaw. "I would like you to be nice and close to me, bleeding as you are."

"Please Klaus," she murmured. "I don't want them to see me like this. It's so embarrassing. Can you put me down when they get here?"

"Ah," he mused. "Well. How can I say no, when you ask so prettily?"

He slid her off of the counter and carried her to the front door, easing her down while supporting her with an entire arm around her waist.

She tested her weight on her damaged foot and found that certain ways made it sting more sharply than not. She leaned out of his embrace to hold herself upright against the door frame, and blinked as he opened the front door to reveal a party of three waiting for admittance.

_They didn't even knock_, trickled uselessly over her brain.

The blonde woman's eyebrows lifted and her eyes immediately went down to the foot hovering off the ground by several inches.

The guy gave her a grin that rung suspiciously of Klaus, despite the fact that this man was almost Klaus' exact physical opposite. The bald head, dark skin and young age, he was thicker and oozed something friendly, with just a hint of danger.

"Hello," the guy said, his deep voice dripping in smchmooze. "How are you?"

"Perfectly well, thanks," Klaus mocked him. "As you can see, I've not killed her. Are you satisfied?"

"No," the woman said, her voice made of diamonds. Pretty, and edged in something hard. She put her eyes on Caroline's face. "I'm Cami. I can smell blood - are you hurt?"

"Her own fault," Klaus shrugged. "She ruined the living room, and the kitchen, and walked through it barefoot."

"Stop answering for her," Cami said flatly. She looked at Caroline again. "Are you hurt?"

Caroline, to her own surprise, opened and shut her mouth, but no noise came out. She'd never met any vampires before, and while these ones were quite friendly, she had no idea how to properly communicate with one. Should she yell? Beg for help? Or would they ultimately be on Klaus' side, as his friends?

Whatever flipped through her head kind of went dribbling uselessly out of her ear, because she made eye contact with the third person. Instinct told her that this boy was just as dangerous as the lot of them, and she found herself pulling Klaus forward to shield her with half his body. Her hands stayed firmly clamped around his wrist in lieu of the wall, though he maneuvered to link their fingers. The singularity of their one fist made her heart rate begin to slow.

"They won't bite, love," he told her softly. She leaned her face against the back of his arm and absolutely burned in embarrassment. "Marcel is a very old friend of mine, and Cami is a saint. The lad in the back is Isaac. He's a wolf."

The kid – he was like her age, maybe a little younger? - looked pained by Caroline's flinch when she spotted him and dropped his eyes, curling in his shoulders.

He was the kind of puppy-cute dude that all the girls (and some of the boys) cooed over. Like, in different circumstances, she’d think he was _foine_, and would definitely put the flirt on.

"I can't believe that _you_," the kid muttered, aimed at the ground. "Would do something like this."

"Believe it," Klaus shrugged and dislodged Caroline's cheek. "There will come a time when you go on a run and find someone to take into your pack, and that instinct can't be helped."

The boy shrugged.

"Yeah, but, to take in a human who could still go to the other side of the wall..."

"That's what I've been saying," Caroline whispered, then increased her volume. "Can you call someone? The Sheriff of Myst-?!"

"We've discussed how I can remedy this problem, haven't we?" Klaus butted in mercilessly, giving her a rancid look over his shoulder. "Behave, or I will make you do so."

"Klaus!" Camille's appalled voice rivaled Sheriff Forbes', in Caroline's humble opinion.

"Don't start," he said, annoyed. "You have no idea what any of this means."

"Well that makes two of us!" Caroline said shrilly. "I just want to go h-"

"Don't," he warned.

"Or you'll what? Chain me up somewhere?"

"Don't be dramatic, I don't have any chains here, and the dungeon stinks," he said shortly. "Go back to being soft and sweet, would you?"

Caroline pulled a very unattractive face to let him know exactly what she thought about that. She shoved his shoulder and saw his eyes flash yellow, but felt empowered by the audience that at least was kind of on her side.

"I told you, you wouldn't be able to handle me," she said loudly. "That didn't take long, did it?!"

"You won't like the way I'm going to handle you in a second," he said. "Shut up now."

"Why? Do you want to see if I can be totally silent while you beat me within an inch of my life?"

"The theatrics of it! _Caroline_. I would never beat you, and have made no such move while you've been here."

"You literally tore holes into my stomach!"

"That is not a beating," he said mildly.

"I feel so fucking lucky," she spat. "What are you going to do if I don't ask how high, when you want me to jump, huh? Are you gonna bite me again?"

"Oh," he said, with a twisted smile. She stumbled back to hit the frame of the door and support herself on it. "I'm thinking about it."

She kind of felt like he was show boating in front of his pals. So she decided to do what she did best: make a scene.

"You're _disgusting_," she said loudly. Caroline smacked his hand out of hers and shoved between the guests that had come to see her like an animal in the zoo. She hip-and-shouldered Isaac, who stumbled to the side like she had taken a hammer to his hip.

"If you run," Klaus told the back of her head, his tone smug. "You'll hurt yourself further."

"I'll deal with it," she asserted.

"I will catch you."

There were two new cars parked on the drive. It was the first time since the night she had been abducted that she could see the area - she was a little impressed and somewhat intimidated to see manicured hedges around the car space, but miles of trees in every direction. She couldn't see through them, much less over them. Only the paved area was clear, and even that disappeared around a bend.

"If I have to catch you," Klaus said, his jovial tone darkening. "You are not going to like what comes of that."

The back of her neck heated up, as though her body pieced together that he would bite her again. She whirled, hands stamping on her hips.

"Oh, but you're not going to beat me! Or put me in the dungeon! Guess that just means I'll do whatever the fuck I want and you can eat _shit_, asshole."

"Klaus," Camille said, putting her hand up to him, her voice urgent. "She's under a lot of stress right now-"

"I think she looks pretty within her right mind, personally," Marcel said with a low whistle.

"So you've become somehow more bold with an audience?" Klaus asked her, eyes lighting up. He completely ignored his friends. "Interesting."

Caroline scoffed, and stood the wrong way on her damaged foot. The limb retracted without her permission, and she teetered. Which unfortunately did a lot to undermine how tough she was actually being. She boiled in her new embarrassment.

"Are there any more to meet?" Caroline demanded. "More to your pack?"

"Cami and I aren't pack," Marcel assured her, lifting a hand at her. "And we're not gonna hurt you, kid. Isaac is a part of your pack, and he wouldn't do anything to hurt you anyway."

"I'm _not_ part of this," she spat. "And that didn't answer my question. Are there more people to play nice with?"

"I never told you to play nice," Klaus reminded her.

"There's the family," Isaac mentioned hurriedly. "Is that what you meant?"

"Wait, there’s a whole family?” Her voice pitched. "But no one else lives here?"

"I uh, usually stop by, once a week or so," Isaac offered.

"But - doesn't pack have to live here?" she pressed. "With the Alpha?”

"The family isn’t made up of wolves,” Isaac explained carefully, glancing back to look at the Alpha. He shifted to the side, and dug his hands in his pockets. "So it is a pack, but it-... Not to them."

"We don’t co-exist peacefully," Klaus offered.

"Not surprised, not even a little bit," Caroline shot at him. Marcel cracked a beautiful smile and laughed. "So where does the family live, then? Are they humans?"

"What? No," Isaac said. "No, they live on this side of the wall, just in the vampire wing, in the Mikealson estate."

"The rest of the family are vampires?" Caroline said, screwing up her nose.

"Yes," Klaus said, very quietly, which should've been her first clue that she was pushing something he didn't want revealed.

"Wait,” Caroline said, as her brain kicked in. She looked at Isaac, who was shifting on his feet, looking at the sky like he kind of wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. "Did you say _Mikealson_?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, strangled.

"As in...?" she looked really hard at the Alpha, then. Really hard. His face was not familiar - but the photo of him in another era... the roaring twenties... how could he be that old and still look the way he looked? The man he was with - that had been familiar to her. _Elijah_, she knew his name was, because she'd doodled 'Mr. & Mrs. Elijah Mikealson' all over her sixth grade history binder.

Which was a surprisingly short lived obsession... he was really attractive and totally Caroline's type. But she'd given up on him super easy...

Huh.

"Shit, sorry Klaus," Isaac blurted, looking like he'd rather disembowel himself than participate in what was happening. "Sorry, she asked, and I had to answer."

"I know," he murmured.

"You didn't tell her about your family?" the woman said, her pleasant voice curious. "Why?"

"Wait and find out," he instructed calmly.

"Klaus," Caroline said, and struggled to pull the two ends of the thought together. "… _Niklaus_, Mikealson?"

She started breathing a little heavier. Jesus _Christ_. Of course, she was some kind of chew toy for the Mikealson family.

Her brain wouldn't stop reeling off information at her. She recalled with sudden clarity that it was because of the Mikealsons that the humans and witches were kept separate from the wolves and vampires.

They had been integral into suggesting peace, or extermination.

She remembered an old timey news reel, with him and his hot older brother (not Elijah - the tall, serious eldest, who was also hot and could get it. Was his name Flynn? Something like that.) She remembered the Original vampires claiming that if the humans wanted to try and kill those of supernatural origin, they would be kept and bred like cattle, raised to slaughter, and no one would bat an eye. Or, they could come to an understanding between them, and change the world.

"You’re … like a thousand?" she wheezed.

"I’m a little older than that." The scowl was mostly confused. “Is that really what you’re getting out of this?”

"The - you -..." She breathed out, lashes fluttering. Could a person pass out from shock? “Didn’t you have a – haven’t you already Bonded?"

"You Bonded someone?" Isaac repeated. "When?"

"Eleven hundreds," Caroline supplied, and felt a rush of vindication at the look Klaus gave her.

The information she had on loop in her brain might not be common knowledge, but she'd earned it. She had, after all, done extension research on the whole Wall debacle, in an effort to impress – ugh – Tanner. She had used her mother’s badge and her own tenacity to search far and wide for more inaccessible information, solid evidence so that Tanner couldn’t tell her she was wrong.

She knew that in wolf culture, when a wolf made a claim on a human, it could be broken before they made the second bite. It was sucky and they would suffer withdrawal, but it was survivable. When a mate was Bonded, they were supposed to be for life. When the Bonded mate of a wolf died, the wolf often followed within the day.

The Alpha - Klaus Mikealson, tyrant, Mad King, war monger – had Bonded someone.

But how had he claimed her, if the Bond still remained? She wasn’t sure if that was like, legal.

"Yeah, I remember reading he did," Caroline told him. "Wasn't it Aurora-?”

"_Don't._"

The back of Caroline's neck tingled at the growl of warning.

"Klaus," coddled Camille. "She's not doing any harm."

"Don't you start, either," he growled.

"No one is starting anything," Marcel soothed. "Relax, man. We're only here to check up on both of you. If it's gonna start something, we can leave."

"No," Caroline said quickly. "No, don't leave."

"We're not leaving until I speak to Caroline alone," Cami said firmly. "It's in her best interest to have an ally."

"I'm not her enemy," Klaus sneered.

"I didn't say you were."

"The implication of her needing an ally belies the necessity to have an enemy."

"You _are _my enemy," Caroline said sharply.

"I am not," he scoffed.

"You are fucking so!" she rose her voice.

"I am no enemy of yours," Klaus told her. "And you know that."

"I don't trust you, I don't like you, you scare the hell out of me, you're actively keeping me against my will," she pointed out. "You're not my friend!"

"You smell like friends to me," Isaac mentioned sheepishly.

"Shut _up_," she told him firmly, and to her surprise, he bowed his head to her.

She glared at Klaus who was looking sullen and grumpy, his hands clutching each side of the doorway. If it had been her house, and her guests? She would've already had them comfortable inside for tea or a cool drink.

But his manners were just atrocious, which was hilarious given that he was alive for the entire evolution of modern manners.

"A thousand years old," she muttered, and rubbed her head. "A thousand years old! And you're trying to tell me you haven't got a handle on your temper yet?"

Caroline hated, _hated_ the frown on his face, and the way it made the prominent lines around his mouth exaggerated, like it was so used to settling into the scowl.

"Oh, come on now," Marcel drawled. "He isn't that bad, anymore."

"He's bad enough!" she said, shrilly. "Now. Are you going to get me out of here, or not?"

"Do you mean that?" Cami asked.

"Of course I-! Why would I not?!" she said. "I have been hunted, bitten, kidnapped, thrown around-!"

"I never threw you around-"

"You drove like a fucking maniac-!"

"To get you back to the den and get you in the warm," he defended. "To get you safe from the other Alphas who hunted-!"

"You just wanted to start your claim!" she shouted. "I am _not an idiot_!"

He snapped his lengthening teeth at her.

"Woah, okay, let's back up a minute," Marcel advised. "What other Alphas?"

"You explain," Cami said, trotting down the stairs to Caroline, who backed up very quickly. "You and I will go for a little walk."

"She's not to be taken, Camille!" Klaus growled.

How had Caroline not pieced together the two halves that made him into a whole? Wolves had yellow eyes, vampires had black. He had both. And she'd seen them more than once since she'd had the misfortune of meeting him... How had she never noticed his teeth? They were equal parts vampire and wolf!

"I'm not taking her," Camille said hurriedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "We're walking. She's not on vervain and I can handle it."

"Oh my god," Caroline said, realization dawning on her. "Oh my god... he can compel me... Whatever he wants... he can just-" She snapped her fingers loosely by her side, and looked at the ground. Tears started to fill her eyes, and she looked at him, mortified.

Marcel clapped him on the shoulder.

"What other Alphas, Klaus?" he said.

His attempts to distract the hybrid were in vain, because he kept his steely gaze on Caroline. She felt a lurch of unsettling discomfort, and looked at the pavers under Camille's shoes as she approached. She didn't want to look him in the eyes, if she wasn't on vervain and he could just... make her do things.

Holy god. What had he made her do? What had he instructed her to forget?

Was that why he scoffed when she told him she was a virgin? Had he made sure she wasn't?

"Come on," Cami said softly. "Come for a walk with me."

She shook her head, and hugged the bag around her body. It was her only friend. These people... these monsters... They could force her to do anything. Literally anything, and she would obey without a thought in her head. Was it any wonder she was rolling over so prettily for Klaus that morning? Instead of standing her ground and fighting him about taking her shoes? Hadn't she decided it basically wasn't worth it?

Who was to say that was even her thought to have?!

"The run?" Marcel said.

"Caroline," Klaus began, and took one step toward her.

She panicked.

Started backing up in an awkward hobble until her shoulder hit a tree and she was forced to stop. She didn't want to look behind her to see where she was going - she didn't want to leave her back open to his attack. But she couldn't look at him, not anymore.

"Who do we have to slaughter, huh?" Marcel said, somehow more coaxingly. His voice was thick and velvety, and consoling. He put his hand on Klaus' shoulder and Caroline managed to glance at the driveway to estimate where she would be able to walk. "Who made you go on the run, Klaus?"

"Come with me," Cami urged her again, showing both her hands as she approached. She stayed a decent enough distance away, but really, what was the illusion in that? She was a vampire, an apex predator. Caroline was under no pretenses fooled by her charming voice or gentle face; this woman would consume her and sleep like a baby afterward.

Caroline fled up the slanting hill. Cami was quick to follow, her neat boots making noise she probably didn't have to make. Caroline strode on when there was no sudden appearance of the hybrid to stop her - given, she would've stopped if he had've so much as called her name.

When she turned and the house was out of sight, she turned sharply and marched herself into the forest, mostly to give herself the sense of freedom.

For a while, she carefully placed her bare feet on the earth and soil, and Camille kept her pace. She walked aimlessly, her eyes yo-yoing between where she was walking and her immediate surrounds. There was nothing but valleys and trees for what looked like miles. She couldn't hear any cars or sounds of life.

"Do you have clothes?" Camille said quietly.

"I have a few," she murmured. "The guy who stole me from my house... he packed some."

"Do you need anything?"

"I need to call my mom," she said, turning to look at the vampire for a mere second. She flinched and looked down again. "He said I could, but now he won't let me."

"I'll talk to him about it," the woman assured her. "Do you need things for your period?"

Caroline rubbed her eyes. She felt absolutely sick of crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"I won't be here by the time my next period hits," she muttered. "I'm either going home, or I'm going to be dead."

"Did he tell you that?"

"_I'm _telling _him _that," she said dully. 

"Has he hurt you?"

"Yes!" she said. "He has! And he - he pretends he hasn't, but he _has_! And when he touches me - he makes me - he makes me touch him back-!"

Cami hissed out a breath through her teeth, her eyes flashing.

Caroline trailed into a whimper and held her head in her hands.

"Caroline, there isn't anything I can say to you that will help," she said, her measured voice strained. "But if you need me to get something through to him, I can try. I'm not a wolf, but I am a woman. What he's doing to you isn't fair, and you shouldn't be this scared."

Caroline looked at the ground, fat tears welling in her eyes. She saw Cami's shoes. A sensible boot. They looked about the same size.

Her brain started to whir.

"The whole... 'if you run, I'll catch you' thing... that's making more sense now. The Original hyrbid himself. Figures that's my luck," she muttered, and rubbed her eyes. Fresh tears burst on her lashes and she swallowed deeply.

There was a pause, and Caroline started walking again.

"We probably shouldn't go too far," Camille said kindly. "I'm pushing my luck to even get distance between you now."

"I appreciate it," Caroline managed to get out. She took a few more carefully measured steps, then sighed, making a show out of stopping. "I guess... I guess you're right. I should stop. I don't really want you to get into trouble."

She looked out into the mess of trees and saw only more trees. Behind them, the paved driveway was the only sign of civilization. Even the house was obscured from their distance.

"If you want me to come around more often, I can," Camille mentioned. "If not to get you out, to at least give you some time to process-"

"Wait, you don't wanna get me out?" Caroline said quickly. She could feel how wide her eyes were. "Why not?"

Camille nodded slowly.

"I understand it sounds... like I want this for you. I don't. I need you to know that it's absolutely the last thing I'd wish on anyone. But with wolf culture what it is..." She paused, searching Caroline's face. "They don't teach a lot of things about claims and how they work in human schools. They can barely teach it here - the intricate nature of the how and the why is still being debated even by elder wolves."

"That doesn't answer my question," Caroline accused.

"No, not really." Camille took a seat on a fallen log, hands digging into her pockets. Caroline was betting that the vampire thought it made her look somehow less threatening. "But it is part of my answer."

"You don't want to help me," Caroline muttered. "I don't care why. I only care that you don't."

"It's complicated," Cami said patiently.

Caroline made an impulse decision. She unzipped her bag, and dug around in it, pulling out her file to hold in the air. The knife threw a beam of light up into her face as if it sensed the blood she planned on spilling.

"_This_," Caroline said flatly. "Is complicated. Some stray werewolf gets into all three of the nearest human factions and studies us!? Rounds us up like mice in a maze?! Somehow completely gets away with the whole thing?! That's complicated!"

She thrust the file at Camille, and let the vampire read it with a steadily lowering brow. She flipped through to her photos, and frowned some more. Finally, she looked up.

"Do you want my honest opinion of this?" she said.

"No!" Caroline retorted. "I don't care about Tanner or why or how he took me! I want you to get me the hell out of here _now_!"

"No," Cami replied simply. She shut the folder, and held it out between them. "Klaus needs to be spoken to about how he treats you, and I will weigh in on that. But I won't help you escape. He's a good man."

"HE FUCKING KIDNAPPED ME!" Caroline roared. "AND HE KEEPS ON MAKING ME TOUCH HIM!"

Cami let that settle in the air, and Caroline smacked the folder out of her hands just to express how beyond annoyed she was with that. When the other woman continued to say nothing, Caroline shook her head.

"You're right," she said waspishly. "What was I thinking? Why would one of your kind give a shit about me?"

"I care," Camille corrected.

"You do not," Caroline scoffed. "You'd kill me in a blink if it weren't for Klaus' stink on me, wouldn't you?"

"That's not true," Cami said. "Vampire on human violence is never necessary."

"Who said anything about it being necessary?" Caroline snapped. "You just fucking like it."

"I don't."

"What_ever_," Caroline said, and wheeled around, looking dramatically out into the middle distance. Camille said nothing for a little while again. "You say you care about me?"

"I do."

"But you won't help me run away?"

"No," Camille said evenly. "Because I can tell that Klaus thinks very highly of you, and I think that once the dust settles on this, you two will look after each other."

"Oh yeah, and in the meantime he gets to do whatever the fuck he likes with me," Caroline said nastily. It stirred up a real fear, and she let her mouth run wild. "He gets to bend me over in his den and make me say_ thank you so much, Alpha, for your big fat knot. _He gets to make me crawl through the glass I broke while I pick it up in my bare hands. He gets whatever he wants with me, because you won't help me now, on the off chance I might somehow be 'good' for him."

"Klaus isn't like that."

"He's a man!" Caroline said flatly. As if that were every evidence she needed.

"Claims aren't like human relationships," Camille said smoothly. "They aren't even like werewolf relationships. You need to speak to him about what he wants from you, really."

"I know what he wants from me," Caroline said wetly. It wasn't hard to fake the tears. She just had to stop holding them at bay.

"He's not like that," Camille said gently. "But I'll speak to him about how he handles you, alright? I'll tell him how he makes you feel. What he's doing to make you think this way."

Caroline was unimpressed by the attempts at placating her. She sniffed loudly and turned, wiping her face.

"Thanks," she said sweetly, and sobbed. "Oh my god, is it okay if we hug?"

Camille hesitated.

"I'm not sure," she said, a touch uneasy. "It may translate to Klaus as me moving on his territory..."

"Please?" Caroline wept. "I just - really need -!"

But Camille didn't seem to be giving her an inch. Bitch.

"I'm so s-sorry," she whimpered. Truly pathetic. What a show! "Fuck - _fucking Klaus _\- he isn't even here and he's ruin-ning my one shot at - feeling any bet-tter!"

"Oh, fuck it," Camille said, and gave in. "It's alright, come here."

She hugged Cami tight, sniffling pathetically into her shoulder.

"I am so sorry!" she wailed.

"It's okay," Cami soothed, stroking her hair. "It's going to be-"

Caroline shoved her knife pointy end first into the back of Cami's neck. There was a high pressure spray of blood up Caroline's wrist, but there wasn't really a lot of it, which was surprising.

Camille was still really alive, but she couldn't scream. She fell to the ground and her mouth moved, but no noise came out.

"I am," Caroline said urgently as she took the boots with shaking hands. "Sorry. For... I'm sorry."

But she didn't pause to snatch the socks and jam them on, snatched back the knife with a wet squelch, and hopped on the express train to Getting the Fuck Outta There.

She licked the blood off her hands as she fled. Within seconds, any of the lingering pains in her body from her first run began to ebb away, and by the time she made the road, all of her hurts were gone.

Her heart was pumping, and she turned toward the slope of the hill, remembering Klaus had driven up it to get her to the house. It was impulsive and dumb, but hope flared in her chest like a bolt of lightning, and kept her going.

She was healed. She had her mace and a knife. She had the full sunlight, and good shoes, and a heart full of adrenaline.

The odds, for once, were all in her favor.


	8. Mace

Caroline sprinted as fast as she could for nearly a full five minutes on the stretch of road before she decided that the _clip clop_ of her borrowed boots was too freakin' loud. She was fast approaching the worst part of a stitch in her ribs and she hadn't seen a single car, so she darted into the foliage to dampen the noise.

Klaus Mikealson. Jesus Christ.

Like, of all the Alphas to have been roaming, why him? He was the ultimate bad guy. The Big Bad Wolf himself. There had been fear with knowing him as Klaus, who was an Alpha who apparently wanted her in his pack, but now he was _Niklaus Mikealson_?

Who was she even kidding - attempting to run away from him was an entire joke. Even within the human part of Mystic Falls, he had reach. She had overheard her mother berating his name multiple times over the length of her career. Apparently there was like, a posse? A fanclub? Whatever they were, they were obsessed with having the Hybrid turn them into a beast like him.

Rumor had it he could do all three - a vampire, a werewolf, or a hybrid.

Which was insane, but whatever.

Slowing down to a walk, her knife wielding hand dug into her protesting lungs and she breathed hard, trying to get her barrings. There was distance between them now, sure, but her brain was... a little fuzzy on what she would do now.

A knife, and werewolf mace. She'd be fine. She just had to keep moving, and wait for a break.

As though sent from the gods themselves, the sound of tires met her ears.

"HEY!" she shouted, and made herself run to the side of the road. There was a bend which confused the noise, and she flagged down the car that approached and halted hard enough to squeal the tires. "HEY!"

She flung herself at their passenger side door, but it was locked. She banged on the glass, looking at the wide-eyed man inside.

"LET ME IN!" she demanded. "PLEASE! I'M HUMAN! TAKE ME TO THE WALL!"

He shook his head, mortified.

The handle of the knife cracked against the glass, but didn't make so much as a dent. Boy she was feeling... kind of dizzy. Her head was--.... all over the place.

The man inside said something, but it was like, genuinely hard to decipher. He was mid-thirties, in a neat shirt and slacks, a box of takeout open on his lap. He inched her window down and said:

"I can't - I can smell your claim from here. Listen, Mr. Mikelason-"

"NO!" she said hoarsely. She hit the window again. "LET ME IN!"

He shook his head again, but clearly wasn't expecting her next vicious hit to crack his window. As he scrambled to try and get it wound up, she shoved in a busted shard and reached for the lock, slicing the underside of her forearm open with a sharp sting that didn't fully register until several seconds later. (Not that something as arbitrary as a little pain stopped her. Oh no. It sort of woke her up, a bit - although when she started getting tired was a question she couldn't answer.)

She unlocked the door - dropping the knife, like an idiot - and the man inside began to drive away, which dragged her a few meters. She screamed, and he stopped the car with a jerk.

"You have to go," he told her, his dark eyes wide. "If he sees I hurt you-!"

"IF YOU DON'T GET ME OUT OF HERE," she screamed, her voice so loud her throat felt like it was tearing. "I'LL TELL HIM YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE!"

He dallied for a second, and she pulled open the door, climbing in head first. Blood pooled around her fist, sinking into the plush seat within the same second it dripped onto it. By the time she was on hands and knees in the front seat, the man had gotten out of the car, and was backing away with his hands up.

"What_ever_," she sneered, and took off with both doors still open.

They shut themselves with her speed - she wasn't taking it easy on the gas. She handled the corners of that twisty little road like she wanted the car up on the side wheels. The man had not left a phone that she could see, and the car was old enough that it had no GPS in the dash. So she just drove in the vague direction of Mystic Falls, hoping that the valley she was hurtling down was familiar because Klaus took her up it when he first drove her to his home.

* * *

Whether or not she remembered struggling to stay awake was neither here nor there. It was when she woke up plastered against the wheel of the car that she realized how awfully tired she was. It was bone deep lethargy that had snuck up on her like a shadow in the night. There was something _wrong_ with it, like a sickness.

Slowly, she shoved open the driver's door and tumbled out onto the damp leaves, rolling onto her back to stare blearily at the accident.

The car had plowed fairly straight into a tree - the airbags had stopped the worst of her damage, but her head was ringing and the back of her head was sore, for some reason. Both her hands were bleeding, and her nose was blocked with blood, too. White steam hissed over the hot engine, which she watched with a slowly clearing mind.

_How did it happen?_ she thought to herself, blinking hard. _I'm not even tired anymore?_

"Resourceful little thing you are," came Klaus' drawl.

Every inch of her skin prickled. Even without the sour note in his voice, she felt his rage trembling into her very soul.

With a yelp of fear, she shot up and then fell to her knees, woozily rolling onto her backside.

"Only gone a handful of minutes," he said in that slow, too-calm way. His eyes were manic, yellow, glittering with threats like tiny fires. "And yet you've stolen a car and killed poor Camille. I underestimated you."

"Yeah," she gasped. "I'm used to that."

Urgently, she got to her feet, holding out the wolf-mace. Shaking fingers broke the seal as she aimed it at him, who had lowered his head like a bull at a flag.

"Are you going to blind me? Was this part of the grand escape plan?" he wondered. That mad gleam was in his eyes, but this time she knew that it was a thousand years' worth of genocide and viciousness that made her skin crawl. She took a step back, bumping against the open car door. "I expected better than a can of mace and a stolen car, truth be told."

"Stop walking," she warned. "You'll get an eyeful if you come any closer!" Her hand, extended at him, was shaking horribly. If she sprayed him, there was every chance the ground around him would wear it, and not just his face.

"Although who am I to judge, when it so very nearly worked?" he continued, taking another step closer.

What did that mean? Was she close to the gate? Was she nearly home?

She glanced over her shoulder and something cracked in her neck, making her free hand fly to hold the site. Feeling the oppressive collar under her fingers, she mindlessly started to fiddle for the leather tab, pulling until it unbuckled.

"I just want to go home," she told him, tossing the ugly brown strap at his feet. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh?" He lifted a brow at her. "Don't you? Not even a little bit?"

Her lips shook.

"Klaus, you can't be mad at me for this," she said. A gross hiccup of fear lodged in her throat, and she tried to swallow around it. She leaned against the inside of the car door and felt broken glass prickle against her back. "I only want to go home."

"And I only want you in my den," he said, too casually, and took a step forward.

"Stop," she said, and held her ground.

"All this blood for what? A little waltz around the woods? A fairly dangerous car crash?" He didn't stop his leisurely advance, hands held behind his back. "I could've let you bleed all over my floor quite nicely, had you asked."

"The end will justify the means," she said confidently. "A little blood now will save me a lot of blood later."

"Oh?" he purred. His yellow eyes tracked her free hand as she grasped for the roof of the car to hold for balance - then flicked down to her awkward stance. Her legs were shaking and her head was sore. "Will it just?"

"Of course it will," she said sternly. "You're a hybrid. You want to eat me."

"I want to do many things to you," he cooed. "Many things more now that you've proven to be somewhat a nuisance. I should put you over my bloody knee for so much as threatening me - or revert to my old ways, with a bullwhip. That would train you in blood."

She swallowed.

"Stop it," she demanded.

"Poor Camille only meant to help you. And this is how you repay her? She'll wake up with quite the headache, you know. Perhaps I should let her take a bite out of you, to put you back in your place."

"_Stop_," she said again, firming her voice. "Do not come any closer to me, Klaus, I mean it."

He did not stop.

She found herself putting the slightest pressure on the cap, testing the strength of the spray. She only meant it as a warning shot; she only meant to make the air between them smell of mountain ash and wolfsbane. The can released a singular breath of air, and no more.

He didn't slow down.

"I have to say, your chances were more improved in the day time - no doubt you were aiming to be seen by some do gooder to lend a hand to your endeavor," he continued icily. He was getting close to her. She started to slide off the door, shaking the can - but no liquid shifted on the inside. "Well, that worked out quite well for you, didn't it? What did you have that poor sod believe, anyway, to steal his car? Did you threaten him with that useless can?"

She shook the mace, and pressed down hard as she could. No spray.

That would be about when she saw the neat little puncture hole on the base, where it had been emptied.

Klaus took the can out of her hand and threw it nonchalantly over his shoulder.

She didn't see where it went because she was too busy looking at him, barely able to blink.

"And you thought I wasn't suspicious of what was so dear to you that you clutched the bag like a child?" he mused; the muscle under his eye ticked. She wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in her to give. "You thought I'd allow you to cling to this one thing, like I wasn't going to be curious as to what might be so desperately necessary to you?"

He stood close, but not touching. It was maddening, not being able to breathe or blink. Let alone think.

_Intelligent my ass_, drifted lazily through her mind. _Tanner didn't have a clue._

"Like I wouldn't want to see what was keeping you so mild, for me?" He touched her face and she couldn't help but shrink away, but the urge to scream was trumped by the instinct that he would be mad at her if she did. He cupped her face insistently, lifting her chin. "Every time you held that bag it made your thundering heart slow. I had to know what inside was making you feel at ease for having it... and if I should get you any more. I'm afraid I won't be doing that, love."

Her lips parted and his eyes, rimmed in black, slid to the breathy gasp that escaped her mouth. He bent his head to her very slowly and pressed his lips to hers, swiping his tongue over the mess of blood he found there.

She was frozen. Whatever calm lull usually dictated her behavior when he put hands on her was not doing so now. A part of her brain pieced together that it was likely because he didn't want her to be kept calm.

He wanted her to be scared.

"Gorgeous," he murmured. His thumb slipped over the blood on her mouth. "This color, on you. Perhaps I should leave you to bleed, hm?"

One of her knees wobbled and gave under the stress but he grabbed her with hands like steel bands, pinning her hard up against the side of the car with a crunch of wayward broken glass. She just stared, terrified. What could she do, without a weapon?

She could see how hungry he was in the flash of fangs in his mouth, and when he grabbed her chin next to angle her for a kiss, her hand landed uselessly against his chest.

"No," she whispered, and did nothing further to pry him off of her - though he stopped, waiting, narrowing his awful animal eyes. To be kind, and appeal to his better nature (if such a thing could be found,) she added a small: "Please."

It wouldn't matter. She wouldn't be able to make him do anything he didn't allow. She was hurt and weaponless, and he was the Hybrid King.

Squeezing her face in his hand, he gave her hip a solid pat.

"I want you," he said. "To ask for forgiveness."

She trembled.

"_No_," she managed to get out. Her heart was beating so hard she felt it in the pressure of where he was holding onto her cheek.

"Now really isn't the time for willfulness, love," he told her politely. "You're bleeding quite a bit, and I'm _starving_. Now ask me nicely - or beg, if you're clever. Ask your Alpha for a pardon, and I'll grant it."

The urge to try and overpower him was only half-hearted - she shoved his chest and smacked at the hand he was holding her with. She knew it would serve absolutely no purpose other than to rile him up, yet she couldn't cap the frightened fight in her body.

He bailed her up against the side of the car with the heat of his body, stapling her hands by the sides of her head. He bent over her, breathing hotly over the wet mess of blood that covered her arms. The long slice from the window got a curious lick, and she cried out weakly, turning her face from that side.

"That hurts," she said.

"You shouldn't of run off," he reminded her. "Now. Say you're sorry, and tell me you'll not disobey me again. Promise you'll stay where I leave you."

She sniffed and glared at him from under her lashes.

"Oh," he said faintly. "I had so hoped you wouldn't."

He latched onto the mess of her arm and took a deep pull of her blood. She'd already felt lost and floaty, a little disoriented and more than a bit frightened, but she felt it more acutely then, focused on waiting for sharp fangs to invade her flesh.

She struggled lamely, and when that didn't work she reverted to her old friend Miss Congeniality - Solar plexus, Instep, Nose, Groin. Well, she couldn't get a clear shot at his guts, so she should have gone for the stomp on the tender part of his foot.

But what felt justified was when she aimed her knee for the squishy bit between his thighs.

He knocked it aside, wedging himself closer to her. She tipped her head back to thud against the car, feeling woozy, letting him suck the open wounds on her arms. They tingled and already began to sear themselves closed under his particular brand of healing.

When she released a soft: "_Klaus_..." he stopped attempting to drain her. He lifted his head and licked his lips with an obnoxious grin that flashed every one of his painted teeth.

"If there isn't an apology waiting for me," he told her with heat underlying his words. "I'm about to sink my teeth into your throat and drag one out of you, screaming."

Her lower lip wobbled.

"Sorry."

"You can do better than that," he prompted.

"Sorry for killing Camille."

"And?"

"And..." She swallowed her displeasure. "Running away."

"Tell me you won't do it again," he purred. "Tell me you know that next time, there will be consequences."

She grit her teeth.

"I know that next time there will be consequences," she repeated dully. But she did not promise to stay put.

His smile widened. She hadn't thought it possible.

"Delicious," he mused, and bent his head to suck a hot mark from the side of her neck.

Her whole body sung with pleasure, but it was at war with her fear. Her hands went to his shoulders, then up to his hair, curling into him while she exhaled a wobbly breath. When she rag-dolled, he held her ass in the spread of one hand and her back in the other.

Her eyes, barely open, saw the smear of blood around his mouth, followed shortly by his awful, unnatural, yellow and black eyes. Like Tanner's. She turned her face from him and scowled at the tree that had stopped her great escape.

"You can take my blood now, and walk home," he suggested thickly. "Or I can carry you, and you can take it there."

"I don't want to drink blood," she grumbled.

"That wasn't an option," he reminded her dryly. "Though if you'd like it to be, you're malleable enough in such a state that you can't possibly contest me. Perhaps I should leave you to bleed and be weak. Then we might finally get along."

Cringing, she tried to suck back her initial reaction to tell him to just kill her, already. Just in case he did it.

At least she wouldn't have to look at him for a while if he carried her. And it might do some legwork to help calm him down. She hated every fiber of her being that told her to _survive_. She didn't want to survive if it meant being held captive by The Filthy Hybrid himself.

"You can carry me," she admitted.

He took her into his arms and swept her hair away from her neck, which made her flinch and crane her head away from him more earnestly. He planted his mouth on her throat in a mocking kiss that ended with a sharp nip that threatened to break skin.

"OW!" she snapped. "That hurt!"

He cupped the back of her head to speak heatedly into her ear.

"You don't know the meaning of the word, not from my teeth."

"You _bit _me-!"

"The next time you run, I will bite you as you ought to have been bitten. You will be made a werewolf down to your bloody marrow. Am I understood?"

Maybe she gave him the right reply, because he hauled her over his shoulder and stormed off without biting her again, but she couldn't really remember what it was. Must've been an appeasing 'yes', but she'd never admit it to anyone.

Least of all, herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeed the authorrrrrrrrr review soup....  
Rev-oup...
> 
> (I'll never make that joke again I promise)


	9. Isaac

If she was going to be completely honest with herself, she couldn't remember the entire contents of the dream itself. Just the feeling of a burning hot body impressing between her thighs, and her hands grasping at it in an effort to drag it closer. She knew she wanted more, more, _more_. If she ever saw the face belonging to the man, it was a mystery to her waking mind.

She became aware that she was stirring, squirming, murmuring.

"Klaus," she might've said on a breath.

Belatedly, she realized her fingers were slipping in the mess of her lower lips, and she was rocking against the thigh Klaus had gladly provided between her legs. She clamped her legs around it and moaned softly at the sensation, circling her own entrance. She dipped a finger inside, teasing the rim of her opening. She felt empty. Needy.

She groaned his name again.

"Go on," he murmured.

He was gazing at her with a touch of yellow in the blue of his eyes, his arms around her.

She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand digging into his piping hot shoulder. She pulsed her thighs around his, rocking her hips to fuck herself on her finger. It wasn't enough. Neither was two. But she was on an awkward angle and couldn't get a third to uncurl from her palm.

"Oh, _fuck_," she whispered. He responded by purring deep in his chest, the hand under her thigh giving a little squeeze, fingers daring to creep up, under the seam of her borrowed shorts. "Is this real?"

"Did you think you were dreaming?" he murmured. "Are you still dreaming?"

She made a strangled noise that could've been a positive, and hid her face under his chin. He couldn't compel her if he didn't look her in the eye. Her idiot hand would not stop pumping into the mess she'd made.

"Was it me you dreamed of, Caroline?" he cooed, pressing a very small kiss against her brow. His fingers were very, very close to the crux of her problem. If he inched over a little bit, he'd be able to reach the spot that was thus far eluding her. "Was it me that stirred up all this heat in you?"

_This is how you get yourself mated_. Her intentions screamed to a halt, and she opened her eyes to see the blur of his throat right in front of her.

She bit back a whimper, actively chewing on her lip, and stopped rubbing herself. Good god. What was she doing? He wasn't a dream. He was a nightmare.

And he was real.

Reeeeeaaaally getting the wrong idea.

"When you come," he continued, oblivious to her awakening more fully. "Will you say my name?"

She exhaled hard through her mouth. Her hand wiped most of her mess on the inside of her own leg, and she withdrew it from the waistband. She stayed still, her heart banging lazily in her chest.

What to do? What to do now that she was in this... precarious situation?

At least he wasn't currently mad at her.

For a long few minutes, she was as tense as anything, wound tighter than a guitar string. She continued to hide under his chin and didn't move an inch. The wolf had laid where he'd been put, but he didn't relax, not so much as a fraction. They lay there, silent, staring at nothing, tucked together awkwardly with the scent of sex hanging heavy in the air.

The Alpha cleared his throat.

Caroline flinched.

"This has to stop," the wolf told the roof. He shuffled until Caroline was off of him, propping up on one arm. His eyes were back to normal human blue.

Caroline looked at his necklaces.

"What does?"

"This. Us. Being like this to each other. We need to figure out how to balance things, here."

"Balance?" she repeated politely.

"You're – acidic," Klaus told her. "Your nervous sweat is making me feel sick. We need to figure out a way for us to both be comfortable."

"My nervous sweat?" she said again, nodding slightly. She pulled herself up, eye twitching. "Me, making you feel sick. Oh, how bad for you. Oh no."

"Caroline," the wolf said through his teeth. "We can make this work. But I need to know what you'd be comfortable with-"

"_Home_," she spat back. She instantly regretted it, flinching, her shoulders coming up, ready to hide.

"_No_," Klaus told her, matching her tone.

Caroline just looked at him, eyes wide and unblinking. She was scared to look away. Scared that the wolf would pounce if she didn't stare. But the threat of his compulsion made her suck in a shocked breath at her own stupidity, and look at the domed glass above her. 

After several long moments, Klaus sat up more fully, and rubbed his face, elbows braced on his knees.

"There isn't anything else to say," Klaus muttered. "The least we can do is make each other comfortable."

_Right._ Caroline thought. Under the covers, her hands rolled into fists. _Because it's my job to make you feel decent. Of course it is._

"After-..." the wolf stopped, then plowed on, firming as he spoke. "After we kissed the other night, the wolf was silent. Dead quiet. I haven't had it be that quiet in... I don't know how long. Since I was a child, maybe. You - you make me human, the same way I make you more than human. If -... If we could do something like that, I could probably leave you alone more."

"You want me to kiss you?" Caroline said flatly. She kept her gaze averted to his chin.

"I want you to feel close to me," Klaus explained. "Just -... I'm asking. Not demanding. Do you want to try?"

Caroline's mouth went dry. No. No, no, no. She didn't want it to happen again. Okay, she wanted to kiss Klaus, sure, he was a hell of a kisser and the single hottest male to have ever been introduced to her - but no! Kissing meant touching, and her dumb brain went all giddy when she touched him. Her hands went to her hoodie strings and tugged until her neck was hidden from his eyes with a bunched up hood.

"I won't touch you," he promised.

She didn't say anything. That felt safe. He couldn't get mad at her for not speaking, right? Not when everyone else was always mad at her for running her mouth all the time?

He wet his lip.

"I see," he said quietly. "You think I want you regardless."

"I think you want me to be obedient," she whispered. "I'm not good at that."

"I do, but not the way you think of obedience," he said flippantly. He rubbed his face, the sound of his stubble scratching on his hand. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” she said, because it was a welcome distraction. Not because it was true.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“I don’t care,” was the first thing she said, followed by: “Not bacon.”

“There's pizza leftover?"

"Uh, yeah," she said. "I could - yeah. Actually, that sounds fine. I can heat that up."

"I could get you some more befitting clothes," he offered. "In fact, I'd rather like to buy you something pretty, if you don't mind."

"So you're gonna leave?" she said, her heart skipping.

His gaze flicked down to her chest before landing on her face. The smile dimmed a fraction, and a damnable brow arched.

"Planning another daring escape?" he prompted.

"That's not what I said. I was just surprised you would leave."

"I said I would get you clothes, not that I'd leave to buy them. I have many minions under my thumb that are wise to do as I ask."

"Well I didn't -!" she started heatedly, then realized she was looking directly at him. She trained her eyes on his shoulder. "I didn't know that. I was just asking."

He grunted.

"Do you have a preference?"

"For what?"

"What to wear."

"I get a choice?"

"You're right. You'll get what you are given," he said nastily. "Or you'll go naked. I certainly know which I'd prefer."

There was a moment of stillness, and then he climbed out of the bedding and stalked off with a huff.

Caroline considered the scent lingering. Something that smelled like... like Bonnie’s house, actually. That's what she thought of. It reminded her of playful fights and talking about clothes, it reminded her of sneaking cheeky drinks into a party they weren't invited to. It smelt like fun, and laughter, and sending each other memes into the early hours of the morning before coaching her friend through her due homework.

She wandered into the barely tidied kitchen and reheated some pizza. She even made herself a coffee and tried to enjoy that - but spat it out. Something about the bitter bite of it on the back of her throat reminded her of his blood in her mouth, and it wouldn't go past the back of her tongue.

Thoughts about taking another steak knife were dashed when she pulled open a drawer and found every single eating utensil gone. Only wooden spoons and spatulas remained.

She sat at the table just in time for Klaus to come back downstairs, his hair still wet from the shower he'd apparently taken.

"Did you eat?"

She nodded.

He reached over for the coffee pot and took a drink from the rim.

"Camille tells me I should be more invested in talking to you. So after the developments of this morning, and at the risk of sounding like a therapist," he drawled. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"What is this?" he mused. "Is this you behaving, love?"

"No," she said sourly. "I just don't know what you want me to say."

"You only have to say what you're thinking," he told her. He took a seat beside her and slung his elbow over the back of her chair, setting the pot on the table. "What you're feeling."

"I'm-" she corrected herself before she said she was _fine_. She was not. "I think you know what I'm feeling."

"Nauseous, by the sounds of it." His eyes flicked to her stomach, then back up to her face. "Did you eat much?"

"Probably not by your standard." What would be the point in mentioning how badly the coffee had tasted - and how difficult it would've been to get food down? "I can still taste your blood."

There was a small pause.

"It wasn't so bad," he murmured. "Was it?"

"Like, as a human who had to drink a whole mug of warm blood?" she said, shifting awkwardly in her chair. "Yeah, kinda. It's freaking me out."

"It's better from the vein," he assured her. His fingers curled against her hair, but she shrugged violently away from him. "Caroline, don't start."

"Don't start what?" she said. He felt too close - not seeing his hand behind her head made her try to get out of her chair. When he pulled her back into sitting, she gave a struggle. "Stop _touching_ me."

"Oh, you want touching?" he snapped. All at once, she was loaded into his lap, her butt cradled by both hands - her back bent and curved against his piping hot front. He was whuffing quietly at the space behind her ear while she went loose and sank into him, hands going to cover his at the sides of her hips. "You don't know how I would have you, love. All the time, I want you to be on me, near me, consumed by me - to play with your hair or hold your hand is a test of my patience, and I rarely have any to spare."

"You're not patient with me," she accused. She linked her fingers in between his and dragged them up to her stomach, folding each over her tightly.

"Mm, I could be better, if you let me," he hummed. His thighs, under hers, spread, causing her legs to drift open with his. "God, you smell gorgeous..."

"Don't say that," she murmured.

"I can say what I think," he reminded her. "Just as you should tell me what you think. What is it you feel about this whole... situation?"

"I don't want to say," she said shortly. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'll do my best," he promised her. His stubble was long enough to prickle through her shirt.

"I... I think you said 'complicated'," she tried. "I think it's... a little complicated."

"Yes." 

"And I thought... After yesterday... I thought you were gonna..." She felt her stomach swoop. She forced his arms around her tighter, absorbing his comfort. "I thought you were gonna really hurt me."

"It crossed my mind," he said easily. "But what would be the point? You won't want me if I train you in pain."

"What happens if I never want you like that?"

"You already do."

"I do not."

"Yes you do. You said my name and had your fingers buried to the hilt inside yourself, literally twenty minutes ago. I can smell you from here."

She shut her legs.

"That - I'm still working through that. What exactly happened," she told him flatly.

"Why? We both know what happened. You want me, and your body agrees," he informed her.

"Good to know you think that," she bit back. "Because I'm not sure I do. Did. Whatever."

"You did," he said, voice turning hard. "I wouldn't have touched you otherwise. You said my name."

"I was _dreaming_," she said through her teeth. Her hands tried to unwind from his but he wouldn't let her go. "That does _not_ mean you get a free pass to breed me, or whatever it is your kind do."

She shoved off of him and turned, wrapping her arms around herself to try and replace some of the warmth she'd left with him.

His face was white. Every inflection of an emotion faded from him, and his eyes got real wide in his head. Like, full tilt, might wear your spleen as a fashionable hat, crazy.

She swallowed a nugget of fear. She had to make a move to placate him. She couldn't let the debate between them get any worse, not when she knew full well who he was and what he was capable of. She focused on his chin and wet her lips.

"Klaus," she said quietly. "Things are... really confusing for me right now. Don't expect this to be linear. If we're going to try and balance like you want... you need to meet me where I am... and I'm all over the place. And I'm s-sorry... I'm sorry it's not... what you want..."

He softened. His eyes floated around her face, studying her for a long moment, before he nodded.

"I know," he told her roughly. "I know I must be patient with you. I just tasted what could be and I'm hungry for it. Hungry for the perfection that is in you."

She wet her lip, and his eyes stuck to it.

"Yeah. Uhm. Just... keep... being patient. I'm trying," she mentioned, and earned a big smile from him. It was proud, and warm, and she felt adored under it. She cleared her throat, looking at her feet, and felt blood fill her cheeks. She could not believe how easy it was to talk him down from a bad mood. She'd read he'd once killed a man for taking a seat he wanted at a restaurant. "So, I'm going to shower."

"Shower," he repeated. "Yes. Good. I'll have clothes waiting when you're done."

"Right. Yup. Thanks."

She tried to move calmly, but her every move was stiff and waiting for an attack from behind. When she started going up the stairs, she was at what she would consider a reasonable pace, but when she got to the top she was full tilt running.

Slamming the bathroom door behind her, she went as far as to check that his shadow had not followed from the crack under the door. She caught her breath before she turned the shower on and went to double check he wasn’t still there. She had a quick rinse – the juices between her thighs were _extraordinary_. Like she’d never made such a mess, before. But once she was clean, she felt better. More in control.

And in the shower, where all the best planning was done, she started to formulate hers.

* * *

Caroline was strictly not thinking about how Klaus knew her sizes so well, or how good his fashion sense was. She was also not thinking about the price tags on all her new clothes. She dressed in a pretty Prada knit over a button down with a crystalline collar, and the most decadent jeans she'd ever pulled onto her body.

The thong, while pretty and soft, was a little too risque. She could pretend she wasn't thinking about the ($1100) jumper and the ($900) shirt, but the thought of Klaus knowing what pretty lace panties he wanted her in...

That was a little bit _ick_.

Still! Some girl clothes were better than none. Except he'd forgotten a bra.

"Thanks," she said, a little sheepish, as she emerged from the bathroom and down the stairs. It gave her a good excuse to look at her feet and not at him.

"You're much better suited to this," he informed her. "Than anything of mine I could've dressed you in. Which is just as well, because our guests from yesterday are coming back to say hello."

A thought skipped through her mind like a darting rabbit.

"Wait," she said abruptly, glancing up at his mouth. "Did you get me clothes to impress Cami and Marcel?"

He pursed his lips, looking wicked, like he was caught doing something he shouldn't.

"You are clever, you know," he told her warmly.

She glared.

"I'm not your dress-up doll," she scolded, and folded her arms over her chest.

"You're more than welcome to take everything off if you're displeased," he mentioned, just as there was a knock at the door. He didn't budge, staring at her pointedly. "Well?"

She huffed at him and strode to the door, yanking it open to reveal the guests.

"Tell me you're the rescue effort," she said bitterly. "Get me out of here."

"Good morning to you too," Marcel said with a winning smile. How dare he be that good looking.

Klaus' arm slung around her waist and he popped his chin on her shoulder and stood close to her side.

Caroline reeled back and glared, but made no other fuss about his touch. Mostly because it made her not mind. She didn't know what else to do, but lean grumpily against the door frame and fold her arms across her chest.

"Good morning," Camille said.

"Hi," Caroline said softly. Guilt wracked through her head, and she couldn't quite meet any of them in the eye. "Sorry about... you know."

"It's forgiven," Cami said, which Caroline understood as: _But not forgotten._ Great. Now she had another vampire to worry about.

"You never let me get away with such lackluster apologies," Klaus said.

Caroline shoved at his hand slung so familiarly around her, but he didn't budge.

"It's not lackluster," she muttered. "I mean it. I didn't want to stab her."

"You did quite a thorough job for someone not particularly prone to violence," Klaus pointed out. "Provided you've never stabbed anyone before, it was an outstanding first effort."

"Yeah, well, life or death will do that to us mere mortals," Caroline quipped. She shoved at his hand again. "Can you get off me now?"

"You didn't have a problem earlier."

"Yes I did. You just ignored me."

"Do not make such accusations in front of company, love. I assure you, it's to your own detriment."

"Sure! I should stop mentioning how gross you are to deal with because otherwise you'll continue being _equally gross_. Sounds like a win/win to me."

"You should stop talking such utter rubbish because I'll rescind your privileges otherwise."

"Privileges!" she squarked. "You won't even let me have shoes, or a phone!"

"I gave you the stipulations as to how you could have a phone, which you refuse to obey."

"Because I'm not a mindless little fuckdoll."

"We can change that, you know."

"Klaus," Marcel said, scandalized.

Caroline stabbed her elbow back into his solar plexus as hard as she possibly could, and darted forward while he made a grunt of dissatisfaction. She stood away from the vampires and Isaac, her hands in fists at her sides. She fully expected him to drag her around by the hair, or shout, or growl at her.

"Easy," Isaac said, although she would never be sure of who exactly he was talking to.

Klaus pursed his lips.

"Have you finished the theatrics for now?"

"Pot!" she said, stabbing a finger in his direction. "Kettle! If I'm being dramatic, you're a full-tilt soap opera."

"I like her," Marcel approved, and clapped Klaus on the arm. "C'mon, old friend. Let's go inside. Isaac can stay with Caroline for a minute while we talk."

"I trust the two of you are quite safe with each other," Klaus mused. He did, however, give Caroline a pointed look. "Be nice to my boy."

"Oh, _you_," she said flatly. "You better not be telling _me_ to be nice!"

"Wait, you're leaving her with me?" Isaac said quickly. "Why? Where are you going? What if she runs away?"

"If she runs away I'll catch her again," Klaus assured him. "She won't get far."

"Wait! What if she tries to stab me?"

"Duck," Klaus advised.

"Marcel?" Isaac implored. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"We'll be a couple minutes, kid. Relax," he soothed. "I just gotta talk to the big guy about a package coming his way. Nothing to worry about."

"You never told me about any package," Camille mentioned.

"We'll talk about it now," Marcel acknowledged with a charming smile. "Don't worry about it, kid."

"Oh," Isaac said, and blinked. "Right. Vampire business. Cool. Okay. Sure. Just... leave me with the hostile human."

"I'm not hostile!" Caroline hissed.

"You killed me yesterday," Camille supplied.

And well... she wasn't wrong.

Caroline walked out onto the driveway and waited for Isaac to catch up. When he did, they walked along it, towards the road, for a little while in total silence. It was unnerving.

“Do you have schools out here?” she tried awkwardly.

Isaac was apparently waiting for her to bring something up, because he started talking, and fast.

"Yeah, of course we do. We learn basic human stuff like math and geography but there's hunting and trapping, and a lot more martial arts. We use it for uh, anger management. It's like... a whole process, for new vampires and teen wolves."

"How do you know what humans learn about?"

"Because I was one?" the boy quipped, sending her a playful smile.

"You were a human?"

"Yeah, I went to Beacon Hills high. Played la crosse... We versed Mystic Falls, a few times."

"Isaac... Lahey?" she remembered. "You're left handed."

"Yeah." He cracked a wider, more genuine smile. He actually was super cute. "How did you remember that?"

"I’m Tyler Lockwood’s – well, I was dating him," she said, and blinked. "He, uh, he only dabbled in and out of la crosse. Football was more his speed.”

“Oh, Lockwood, huh? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” he said. "How is he?"

"Probably okay," she mentioned, and continued before he could realize his foot-in-mouth moment. How the hell would she know how Tyler was? She was a kidnap victim. “You went to Beacon Hills - did you happen to know Lydia Martin?”

“Lyds?” he beamed. “Yeah, we were pretty friendly. What a small world.”

“She was in the run,” she said quietly. “The run Klaus took me from.”

His friendly smile dropped.

“She _what_?”

“Do you remember Mr. Tanner?” she prompted.

“That god awful sub with the stick up his ass?” Isaac furrowed his brows. “Kind of?”

“He was the one who set us up,” she said quickly. "The Beta that got away."

“No shit?”

“Not even one,” she lamented. “He molded it after the Hunger Games.”

“What the_ fuck_?”

“I know.” She swallowed. “Lydia was with me for a bit.”

“Is she okay?”

“I think so,” she stressed. “She was when I last saw her and Klaus showed me the Beacon Hills Journal and it said she was alive and okay, but – there was another Alpha out. There were another two. Tanner took – he worked this whole area, he took six of us. Two from Mystic Falls, two from Beacon Hills, and two from Riverdale.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, aghast. “Jesus. Who else did he get from Beacon Hills?”

“Allison Argent,” she told him.

His face lost color.

“Oh my god, were you friends with her? I’m so sorry,” Caroline said. “Wait, you should know, she had a bow and arrows – and she got out! I saw it on the website!"

"You sure?" he murmured.

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure, don't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out," he said, in a daze. "Shit... Allison. I haven't thought about her in ages. She was- really, really nice to me. Her family are die hard hunter types."

"I don't know her very well," Caroline admitted. "But... I know she's okay now, so... Yeah."

“That sucks." Isaac breathed out a long breath through his teeth. "Do you know anything else?"

"No, I don’t know much else,” she admitted, and slumped. "Klaus won't let me have a phone, so I can't check. My friend Matt was in the run -"

"Matt Donovan?" Isaac said. "Shit, he was a nice guy too!"

"Yeah, he's one of the best," she agreed. "And I don't know what happened to him. He's missing... but apparently I'm missing, so I just figured he could still be alive..."

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Isaac winced, and reached over to pat her shoulder. Just before he landed the consoling gesture, she flinched away from him hard, and he recoiled like she’d spat at him. “I-… I’m not gonna… You’re okay. Shit. Sorry, sorry. I didn't - shit.”

Caroline swallowed.

"I'm never getting out of this alive, am I?"

"Is that-?" he stopped. "Do you... want to?"

"Yes?" she tried.

Isaac blinked at her.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he said. "But you kind of aren't convincing me."

"It's not my job to convince you of what I say." She shrugged. "Anyway. Do you live near here?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"How far?"

"I could run it in like four minutes. It takes like ten to drive, because of the roads. They sorta snake around," he said, pointing to the left of the house. "Klaus bought me the next place over."

"Do you live with anyone?"

"No, but it's good. I can invite the guys over from school whenever I like."

"You don't have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"Nope," he said with a breathy chuckle.

"Do you want a partner at all?"

"Yeah, I guess. There's this girl, but she's a human," he said. He kicked a stone into the distance. "It's an online thing."

"Does she sneak over the wall?"

"We were thinking about it," he admitted. "I kind of don't want her to, especially on either side of a full moon, when people are still being moon-drunk and on the prowl. But maybe soon."

"Have you told Klaus?"

"I don't think he'd care," Isaac admitted.

"So there's no one else in your house? You don't have any other wolf pack members?"

"No. Just you."

"Why? I thought packs were really important to wolves?"

"They are," he said easily. "I've only known Klaus for six months, but I'd kill anyone if they threatened him."

"What could threaten Klaus? Isn't it impossible to kill an Original?"

"No, but it's really hard," he said.

"How do you kill one?"

"Well, back when he was a human, there was this tree-"

"That's quite enough of that," Klaus said dangerously.

Caroline whipped around to see him wondering a few feet behind them, Cami and Marcel no where in sight.

"Where's Marcel?" Isaac demanded.

“Waiting for you at your car, as promised,” he said darkly, and sent Isaac a look from under his lashes. “Mind your tone with me.”

“Sorry,” Isaac offered (only sounding the barest form of apologetic at all), and looked back at Caroline. "I don't like coming out this way without some vampire muscle. A lot of the people in wolf territory don't like me hanging with Klaus."

"They'd rather you hung out with Marcel?"

"Marcel is popular. He does a lot for the community, and he speaks for Klaus at commitees and stuff."

"But Klaus is your Alpha?" Caroline muttered. "They can't judge you for having an Alpha."

"They can when they're scared of me," Klaus supplied. "Now. Would you like to head in and speak to Camille for a while?"

"Not really," Caroline said quickly, focusing on the button on his shirt.

"Why not?"

"I don't know her. And I don't know what she wants from me, especially now since I stabbed her."

"She won't stop until she feels the matter is resolved, you know."

"You're a big bad wolf. Can you run interference on that?"

Klaus' eyebrow ticked in amusement, as marked by the curl of his lip.

"I can, but I'm certain she means only to ask after your health, and current state of mind," he said placidly. "She wouldn't hold a grudge against you when you thought you were in a life-or-death situation."

"Health is fine. State of mind is confused. Situation is... manageable. Will that be enough?"

"Unlikely."

"Well I'm pleading exhaustion," Caroline said with a shrug. "I still don't know her and she's a _vampire_, for Christ sake."

"You're more the danger to her, as it turns out."

"Pretty sure you only ever get the one chance to kill a vampire," she mentioned. "And since I killed her yesterday, I don't think she's gonna be exactly cool with me, right now."

"I wouldn't let her hurt you, love," Klaus promised her.

She screwed up her face.

"But she could just compel me to answer her questions and I wouldn't have a choice about what came out of my mouth. No. No thank you."

"She wouldn't do that," Klaus placated. "She's a trained psychologist, if that helps."

"It doesn't," she said bluntly.

"Walk back to the house. I'll have her shoo'd away before you get there," he told her, and gave them a smile. Then he was gone in a rush of powerful air, and Caroline was absolutely shocked at how fast he was.

She upturned her mouth and looked at Isaac.

"Is he usually that much of a show off?"

"Uh, sometimes," he said with a shrug. "C'mon. We better start walking back."

Caroline had the distinct impression she could beat this guy in a fight. She looked at him, eyed his muscles and his height, but he was too timid to really go against her. When she made a sudden movement like she was going to whack his arm, he flinched and fell into a heap on the floor.

"Don't tell me what to do," she said primly, and stepped over him, walking back with her nose in the air.


	10. Mom?

"Camille gave me quite the talking to," he drawled.

Caroline hadn't heard his feet on the stairs - she jumped a half a mile and sucked in a shocked breath of air. It was gross, the feeling of blood draining from her cheeks. She watched his smirk fade from his face.

"Make some _fucking noise_," she bit out, and sourly rubbed her chest. "I'm _stressed_, Klaus, you're going to give me a heart attack."

"I would heal you," he reminded her. "I haven't lived with humans in a long time, love. I forget you can't hear me."

"Wear a bell," she grumbled, and tried to relax on the yellow bed as she had been before he'd snuck in. But that was impossible, when his eyes immediately fell over her stretched out legs.

"What are you reading?" he prompted.

Holding up the book between them, she sat and pulled a pillow in front of her belly, tucking the corner down to block his eyes from her crotch.

She'd found a small cache of books in Elijah's room (she knew it was Elijah's because there was a collection of handwritten journals ranging the ages in the bookcase. Even though it crossed her mind to read one, the first that she'd tried had been... super dense and wordy. Not her speed. So she went with the more modern thriller). It had been a really long time since she had read anything not-school related to pass the time. There were two other TVs in the house that she hadn't pulled out of a wall, but watching them seemed like too much of an invite to hangout with the good ol' Hybrid King. Especially since one of them was mounted in his master bedroom.

"I see," he said mildly, taking purposefully loud clomping steps toward her. He plucked the book from her hands and turned it over to inspect the back.

"You lost my page," she pointed out.

"You'll find it again." His eyes flicked over the blurb, and then up to her. "Camille guessed you might be bored."

She shrugged one shoulder jerkily. There was no version of herself that wanted to ask him for anything - asking him for things would only feed his Alpha hind brain. And she was literally trying to do everything to oppose that.

"Camille also got shanked by a useless teenager," she said, flexing her hand for the book.

Playfully, he held it out of reach.

"She said that all you'd have was your fear and hatred," he mentioned coolly. "That I should give you something to look forward to."

"Then give me my book back."

He didn't. He tossed it to the end of the bed, digging in his back pocket.

"Camille also said I should let you contact your mother without compulsion." He held the phone up between them, not bothering to move any more to her - he waited until Caroline moved cautiously forward, hand stretched out. Caroline's fingers closed around the device, but Klaus didn't let it go.

Even when she gave it a pull, he didn't release.

"I'll be here, and I will be listening," he said firmly. "If you hint, if you say anything about being a human, I will force my blood down your throat and kill you."

Caroline nearly let it go.

"Alright, fine, whatever."

"Not whatever," he said. "Literal death. I will not think twice to snap your neck. Do you understand me?"

She _had_ to speak to her mom. But there was a very large part of her that didn't want to risk opening her mouth and trusting the words wouldn't betray her.

"Yeah, I got it," she said, feeling a little faint. "You'll kill me."

"And when you're done," he pressed. "You have to do something for me."

Frowning, she put her hand down without having taken the phone.

"Something like what?" she said flatly.

He shook the device at her.

"Something you won't cooperate with otherwise, I'm sure."

"No!" she said loudly. "No, I'm not doing this under threat of death for something I don't want to do."

"It won't hurt," he told her. "And I won't even have to touch you-"

"Is it compulsion related?" she demanded.

"It doesn't have to be," he informed her sourly. "If I let you call your mother, you have to do something for me, and you have to do it when I say so."

"Did Camille suggest this little bargain?" she seethed. "Because I'm gonna guess she was telling you to be nice."

"It is me being nice," he said boldly. He wagged the phone at her. "This is your one chance. Agree to do the one thing I ask of you, and I'll let you call your mother with no compulsion. A one time offer. It's going, going-"

"Gimme," she said, and grabbed at the device.

He held it over his shoulder, brows lifted.

"Promise," he demanded. "Say you'll do the task."

Dread filled her stomach and she made an aborted movement to get off the bed to make a run for the bathroom, but he looked like he was about to put his phone back in his pocket. Swallowing the nausea, she grabbed his wrist in both hands, staring wide eyed at him.

"I'll do it," she said desperately. "I'll do what you want. Please let me call my mom."

His lids lowered to shutter whatever look filled his gaze, and he passed her the screen already unlocked.

She wasted no time in tapping in the phone number, turning away from him. Both her knees were shaking, and she hated, _hated_, the feeling of opening up her back to him.

His entire body was hot, even through his clothes, and Caroline wasn't sure if she was sweating from the proximity and fear, or the proximity and heat. His hand very slowly touched her shoulder, smoothing the fabric, before trailing down to cup around her rib.

"One wrong word," he warned her softly, his other hand bracketing her other side. "I squeeze the air out of your lungs. You won't be able to finish a sentence, and your mother will hear you die."

Caroline hit the little green button, and the three rings were the longest of her life.

"Sheriff Forbes, this had better be good news."

"Well," she said weakly. "Define 'good news'?"

A beat.

"Caroline?"

"Hi, mom," she said, and started to cry.

"Caroline. _Caroline_! Oh my god, are you alright? Where are you? Hang on - hang on - SHUT UP! MY DAUGHTER IS ON THE PHONE! Caroline? _Caroline,_ what happened, where are you, are you _safe_?"

"I-" she sniffed loudly. "Am... okay. Ish. I'm mostly okay. It was some kind of Hunger Games - did you find everyone else?"

"Are you okay?" the sheriff pressed.

"Yeah, mom, I'm okay," she said softly. "I'm okay, are you?"

"I'm better now, hearing your voice," Liz said, choked, into the phone. "God, Caroline, where are you?"

There was a warning rub of thumbs on her back. Or was it consoling?

"Tell me what you know about everyone else who ran. Is everyone else okay?"

"Ye- yes, everyone else was fine."

"Did you find Matt? The Beacon Hills Journal said he was lost."

"We found Matt." Her mother's voice was shaky, when she next spoke. "Are you safe? Have you got an Alpha now? Or are you a vampire?"

She made a noise that was supposed to be words.

Klaus’ hands clamped in warning.

"I-...Yeah, I have an Alpha!" she blurted. She felt her shoulders seize for a second when he bent over her, pressing a quiet kiss against her shoulder. Her traitor body went soft, reclining against him. Her knees, already weak, threatened to leave her to fall. "I... Mom, I-..."

"It's okay," the sheriff's tone trembled. "You're still my daughter. You're still my girl. We can meet at the gate precinct, I'll bring some of your stuff. No one blames you. Lydia said she couldn't have done it without you, that you were still smart under pressure."

She shut her eyes.

"I love you, mom," she said. "Okay? You know I love you?"

"Yeah, honey. I love you too."

There was a moment.

"Mom," she said quietly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Where did you find Matt?" she whispered. It wasn't good. She knew it wasn't good. "Is Matt alive?"

"Honey-"

"Mom?" she said louder. "Is Matt alive?"

She might've tried to answer, But Klaus took the phone out of her hand.

"Sheriff. Klaus Mikealson." A pause. "Yes, her Alpha. I'd like to make it perfectly clear that the wolves involved in the run weren't going for the run. The Beta lured us away under pretense of a consensual mating run."

There was some intense staring.

"I won't leave your daughter. She's still too new to the pack. But when we're able to separate, I guarantee that the Beta will be hunted and punished to the fullest extent of our law. It will be slow. And painful."

He tilted his head.

"Yes, I'm taking care of her, the best way I know how." Klaus’ whole arm clamped around Caroline's stomach to cut off the protest before it left her mouth, dragging her onto her tip toes. "We can organize a meet when things aren't as tense between our people. Yes, of course. I'll put you back on."

He passed the phone back to Caroline, who mashed it to her face. There was a lengthy pause, and her mother said:

"Has he hurt you?"

"No..."

"Do you feel safe?"

She didn't know how to answer that, really. 'Mostly' wasn't likely to cut it for either her mother or Klaus.

"I'm... doing okay," she tried. "He isn't-... He's not all bad. It's different. I'm doing what I can."

"I love you, sweetheart," she was told firmly.

Caroline hid her face in her available hand.

"I love you too," she wept. "Mom, I miss you so much-"

"I miss you too," Sheriff Forbes said into the phone. "I love you, and I'm here, honey. I'm here. It's okay. It's alright. Everything is going to be okay."

Although it wasn't, Caroline was only human. Her mother's reassurance was everything she needed to believe that maybe, just maybe, it could be.

* * *

The phone call lasted until Klaus' phone started to die. Caroline promised her mother she loved her a million times, and asked after Matt twice more. Every time she did, her mother evaded it, and Klaus would interrupt. She already knew the answer from that alone.

"Mom," she said wetly. "Mom, the phone is dying."

"Put it on charge," the Sheriff said.

"No," Klaus murmured over her shoulder. "It's been long enough."

"_No_," Caroline retorted, appalled. Though the feel of him had been kind and warm, she threw her elbow back into his gut and took a large step away. "No, it's not, and how dare you tell me-?!"

The phone - her mother - was yanked out of her hand.

By the time she had spun around to snatch it back, he was gone, and she was alone.

Caroline slapped both hands over her face and sobbed several times.

"I didn't even say _goodbye_," she wailed. "You're such a - dick!"

"I've been called worse," came his snide voice from her doorway. "Now. What have we learned about trying to hurt me?"

She yanked the lamp out of the wall and threw it squarely at his head. It was caught but not before she was ripping the entire drawer out of the bedside table and lobbing that at him, too.

Unfortunately he knocked that away, completely unphazed, which was when she idiotically charged at him and tried to punch him in his stupid head. He caught both wrists and shoved her back. She wasn't finished. She tried to hit him again and again, each thrown fist punctuated by a sob.

It took him actually wrapping her up in his arms to stop her pitiful swings. The second he did, her knees went, her whole body sinking into his support and warmth. She made awful, horrible, ugly noises against his shirt, wiping tears and snot and drool like he was her own private tissue.

He cupped the back of her head.

"I'm sorry about your friend Mathew," he murmured. "I'm going to make Tanner pay for putting you in this position. I swear."

She sagged.

What was the point in arguing with him? He couldn't be reasoned with when he was so... completely unwilling to take any responsibility for what he was doing. He'd given and stolen her mother's voice like a vengeful god and yet he thought that he should only apologize for Matt?

"I'm g-gonna throw up," she warned him.

Thankfully, he took her under the arm and helped her get to the bathroom, where she cried over the toilet but didn't throw up. There was a little gagging, but honestly? Her stomach was in knots, cramped so tightly that whatever was in there wouldn't be expelled.

"What can I do?" he asked her softly, stroking her hair.

She didn't say anything for a long time. She couldn't even form a thought to spit out at him. She hunched over the toilet bowl and clutched her skull in two sharp nailed hands, crying until it was hard to breathe.

"Just l-leave me alone," she said finally. "Please. I want - I want - I want to be alone."

"I don't think you should be," he cautioned. "Let me hold you, a while?"

"WHY DO YOU ASK-?!" she shouted, spinning on her knees. Her hand flung out to strike him but her vision was so blurry that it completely missed. "WHEN YOU WON'T GIVE ME WHAT I WANT?!"

"Caroline-"

"MY FRIEND IS DEAD. HE'S DEAD. HE'S DEAD AND I WISH IT HAD'VE BEEN ME!" She shoved him in the shoulder. He let her. "I WISH IT WAS - I wish - I wish _I had've died_, I hate you, _I hate you_-"

"Caroline," he tried.

"You took - you gave me my - m-my mom-" She choked. Bile touched the back of her throat. "You - you-! You-!"

"I'm pure evil," he amended. "The very worst of them. I know."

"I _hate_ you," she spat. She bent over the toilet, hugging the seat. "I hate you, I wish I was dead. Just kill me. I want to die."

"If you're going to be like this," he said. "I won't let you talk to her anymore."

"It doesn't m-matter," she announced around her entirely blocked nose. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to t-talk to her if I ha-have to play nice with you. I _hate_ you. Nothing _matters_. You're never go-going to - you're never going to care."

"I care-"

"You're never gonna care _what I want_," she corrected. "You don't care. I want to d-die. I wan-nt you to _kill me_."

There was a beat.

"You mean that," he said slowly. Like it was a revelation. "Truly. You'd rather die, than be with me?"

"I wanna die," she said, and shut her eyes. "I wanna die. I wanna be _dead_. Just leave me alone. I want to die."

He swallowed loud enough that she could hear it around her pounding headache and hard breathing.

"You wanted to know," she said thickly. "You asked me what I wanted. If you - if you can't leave me alone, I want to die. I want to die, Klaus."

"Stop," he said softly. "Stop saying that."

"I want to die."

"Stop saying that," he repeated. "I mean it, now. Enough."

She gave a hopeless, lost little laugh, which ended up being more of a sob.

"Okay. I'll stop," she agreed. She slumped, laying her head against the seat lid, staring without seeing beyond him. Her eyes couldn't focus on so much as the door frame. "I'll shut up. I'll be your quiet little fuckdoll. That's what you want."

"I don't want that."

"That's what you want. For me to be quiet and to suck your knot."

"No," he said sharply. "No. I don't want that from you."

"_Liar_," she accused, sliding burning eyes at him for half a second, before returning to stare at nothing. "You just-st want me to do what you say and shut the fuck up. You want me to be a whore on call. Why don't you just rape me already and get it over with? What's with all the waiting? You could do it. Just _do it _already."

He let a breath of air go between his teeth, and took a long time to fill his lungs up again. She didn't care. She was exhausted. The wait for his voice was both a blessing and a curse.

"Are you finished?" he drawled.

"Yes, Alpha," she mocked, and shut her eyes. "Whatever you want, Alpha."

He growled, low and gruttal, but she didn't care. The care factor was less-than-zero. She literally tilted her head across the seat to open up her jugular to make his bite nice and easy for him. She wondered if he'd rip out her whole throat, or not.

"Do it," she said wetly. "Just kill me. I want you to."

He left her alone instead.


	11. Monster (part 1)

Caroline laid in her yellow bed as though she was preparing for a funeral. Though the urge to die had come and gone, it hadn't stopped lingering in her head as an option.

Which was, you know. Terrifying.

First, she thought about the Alpha. He was fast, he was strong, he could hear everything, and probably smell Caroline a mile away. AND, he kept making her doubt that she would leave. He was the biggest obstacle in her path - PUBLIC ENEMY NO. 1.

Could she get his phone?

Klaus' phone was password protected. She didn't even know where he kept it, it just seemed to be around when he needed to, conveniently. But he had to charge it, right? And there was at least one port in the den. The first digit was a 1, and he didn't immediately lock it once he was done using it, which could be useful.

_What about transport?_ popped into her mind.

The car.

The car that had GPS built into the dash. And it could probably do some damage to an Alpha, maybe even give her a chance to outrun him. But - this was a big _but_ \- Klaus would know the roads. It wasn't a 4x4, she couldn't go into the wild. Besides, the trees were too dense to drive through, and no where near Mosswood River - the river that flowed through wolf territory to human.

So.

She needed 1) his keys, 2) his phone, or 3) his car.

But to get any of those things, first she needed his _trust. _

Ugh.

Every noise in the house was already amplified. Every bug that sang outside, teased by every whisper of a breeze, it all made her roll over in the bed and pull the pillow over her head. It was such a nice bed.

_Do I have to? _she asked herself._ Can't I get one good, unmolested sleep in?_

_Get up, _said Bonnie's determined voice in her head. _And get to work. No one else will do it for you._

With a grunt of frustration, she threw the covers off of herself and sat, blinking into the darkness. She might've imagined the Alpha's mass in the shadows, but it turned out to be the pile of pillows she'd thrown hastily at the end of the bed. Sulkily, she climbed off the bed and tiptoed down the hall, checking in on the master suite to confirm what she already knew - Klaus didn't sleep there.

In the dark, with a hand out on the banister, she crept quietly down the stairs, although there was no illusion that he couldn't actively hear her every move. She paused by the open doors to the den, peering in at the moonlight that filled the space, and Klaus' shape in the middle.

She could see him looking, and shifted her weight on her feet.

"Are you going to make me _ask_ to get in there with you?" she tried to sound impatient, but it only came out strained.

He lifted his arm and pulled the blanket open.

"I wouldn't make you suffer your pride like that," he teased, his voice throaty and low.

When she crawled in beside him, he let her arrange herself as she liked - she put her head on his arm and faced him front on, her fingers curling in the collar of his henley. She moved to press her forehead to the patch of skin there, and felt a sigh leave her body. Every tense part of her uncoiled, and she felt more secure when he tucked his other arm over her waist.

She accidentally butted her head against his chin as she readjusted, and felt the pressing need to kiss it better. So she did. Just a quick peck - a tiny apology for a tiny pain. It was only an impulse, but with her bare fingers on his chest, she couldn't stop. She craned her neck to hover a scant inch away from his mouth, so close to him she could taste the hint of toothpaste and booze on his breath.

He didn't indulge her, though. He pulled her more surely against him and rested his cheek near her head.

"You're not going to kiss me?"

"You asked me to kill you earlier," he said, too-casually to be truly unaffected. "And you did that with much more vehemence."

"So are you going to kiss me or not?" she mumbled. "I brushed my teeth."

"I wasn't worried about the flavor of your tongue, love," he murmured. "I was waiting for your consent."

_That's a first, _shot into her head, but not out of her mouth. A plus! Self-control!

"Klaus?" she said, soft against his chin. "Can you kiss me goodnight? Just a little?"

He was smiling, she could feel it. He peppered kisses over her brow and on both eyelids, gently forcing them closed. She didn't open them as he continued to pay her these tiny kindnesses, his warm touch trailing over her cheeks and nose. Finally, a lingering peck to her lips.

She returned it.

_Trust me_, she thought, her heart skipping a beat. _Please trust me._

He must've heard the spike of fear, because he stopped right there, cupping his hand over her arm and giving it a rub.

"You don't need to be frightened of me," he murmured, and kissed her brow. "Just give us time, sweetheart, and ask me for what you want. I'll do as you wish."

She hunkered down to hide her brow to his throat, her face flaming. She stroked downward, feeling the bang of his heart under her fingertips. The thoughts in her head were a mess, when he spoke such nice things about what could be.

"Can I speak to my mom again?" she whispered, like maybe he wouldn't hear it.

"I never meant you couldn't," he said quickly. His arms tightened around her. "I never meant it was to be your only conversation. I didn't want you to have just the one. You were so upset."

"You took her away from me, and I needed her," she accused on a breath. Hot tears filled her eyes. "I thought you weren't going to let me ever speak to her again."

"No," he soothed. "No, of course not."

She hunkered into him, somehow smushing closer. It was warm. Too warm. But she couldn't get close enough.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked weakly. "What do I have to do... now that I spoke to her?"

"It can wait until the morning," he promised. "It's some online shopping."

"Why didn't you just _say_ that?"

"Because I'm not overly convinced you'll like what I need you to buy."

She screwed up her face.

"Is it sex toys?"

"No, it's not bloody sex toys."

"Oh," she said, and settled against him. She was nearly asleep when his breathing changed, and he rubbed her shoulder.

"Caroline, I need to tell you something," he said tentatively. It was the first time she'd ever heard him speak like that, and it made her stomach flip. "The things you said to me today... I didn't know you were feeling like that. I never meant it to be so. You're so young. That you could honestly tell me you wanted death - I -... I don't know what to tell you, love, to make you feel better. I don't know what to do. I can't let you go, but I can't have you like this. How can I fix this - awful thing, between us?"

She shut her eyes.

"I don't know," she said honestly. Because that was the truth - and the safest thing she could say. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"Suppose so," he murmured.

His heart thudded like a drum under her ear.

"Your heart is so loud. Is this what it's like for you?" she wondered. "To hear my heart?"

"All the time," he agreed, and stroked her hair.

"...Annoying," she decided, mimicking the sound of his pulse with a rolling drum of her fingers.

"Not always," he said. "I adore listening to your heart. It usually tells me the things your mouth refuses to say."

She didn't answer verbally. But she wondered what would be made of the unsettled beat in her chest.

* * *

The world was sort of still in a blur when she woke up. Her hands were buried in Klaus' hair, holding on as he went to town sucking at her exposed throat - she was breathing as though he'd been at it for at least a little while, but she had no recollection of it. It felt amazing, the branding heat of his mouth on her skin. She felt eclipsed, warm. Totally pliant to his petting hands, which were stroking her sides beneath her shirt.

"Are you awake?" he asked thickly.

"I think so," she said, and swallowed. Her heart was galloping and she'd be lying to herself if she was going to pretend that there wasn't an entire panty party happening. But she crossed her legs, tightened her thighs, and let go of his head. "Was I dreaming?"

"This might've been my fault," he murmured. He rolled off her, hands rubbing his eyes. "I think this time it was me."

"Is it-... like, part of the claiming thing?" she guessed.

He hummed an agreement, still blocking his eyes. After a deep swallow, he resurfaced and looked at her. His eyes were yellow.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she said timidly. "Like, let's not do that unconscious again, but yeah. I'm okay."

He nodded once, and wet his lip. The black around his eyes shifted like clouds as he studied her, each point of her face down to her throat. His hand absently raised and went to touch a mark that made her break into goosebumps - he didn't try to stop her when she took him by the wrist and lead his hand away to the much less distracting bedding between them.

"I'm gonna -... go pee," she announced, hitching the blankets aside and rolling into standing. She felt the weight of his attention on the short hem of the shorts she'd been given, and scurried down the hall to the downstairs bathroom.

When she went to wash her hands, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Holy mother of hickies.

It looked like someone had recently tried to strangle her. The many red and purple blotches that filled her throat were like, extraordinary. How long had he been at it, before she had become aware of him?! And WHY hadn't she woken up, when he had clearly gone to town attempting to make every inch of her throat a different color?!

"_Klaus_," she said, exasperated. "What the fuck?!"

She tried to rub one of the bruises (like it would help). She washed her hands and came out of the bathroom with one wet palm around her throat.

"Kitchen," he called out to her, so she diverted to storming in there instead. There was still yellow in his eyes when he looked at her from where he was setting up the coffee machine. "Before you start-"

"What the fuck!" she said shrilly. "How long were you - necking with me?!"

"I don't know," he said mildly. "I was asleep."

"Oh bullshit," she snapped.

He lifted his eyebrows at her.

"Recall," he said dangerously. "You were rutting against me with your fingers buried inside of yourself, and that was all done in your sleep. Unless it wasn't?"

"Do not even!" she hissed. "I barely want to touch you unless you whammy me, so let's not pretend I'm being modest. Why _the fuck_ did you do this to me!?"

"To replace your collar," he said mildly. He slid an iPad at her over the bench. "You have to get another one. That's what I bargained with you for."

"I don't want a collar," she sulked.

"Then you'd better get yourself a ring," he drawled. "Something that makes it known that you are mine."

"A ring?" she repeated, glaring at him.

"Wedding ring," he affirmed. "Get a big one so people know I'm rich."

"Ugh," she said, screwing up her nose at him. She looked at the iPad, then at him. "Are you being serious?"

"Of course I am."

"No, I meant - about the ring." She took a seat at the island. "Could I get a ring instead?"

His face softened.

"Do you hate the collar that much?"

"I'm not a dog," she said, not for the first time. "It's really gross. It makes me feel like a slave."

"The one you had was old," he said sheepishly. "There's softer leathers and nice colors, now. Ones with diamonds. Some can be rather pretty."

"A pretty slave is still a slave."

"Have a look," he suggested. "If you still hate it beyond measure, then of course you can get a ring. I don't care. As long as people know you're off the market."

"I'm not off the market," she said sharply.

"Yes you bloody well are," he told her frankly. "You're mine."

"You bit me," she pointed out. "You're not dating me."

"Dating?" he repeated. "Even if this isn't your version of dating, Caroline, in what universe do you see yourself ever dating someone while you're my claimed?"

She stared at him.

"'Your version of dating'?" she said flatly. "Is this -? Are you-? Is this - claiming thing - wolf dating?"

He shrugged.

"Sort of."

Her whole world sort of... came crashing down. Several things smashed into place in a violent jigsaw, and she shot out of her chair and stupidly squared off at him.

"WHAT!"

He rolled his eyes.

"Enough with the theatrics. It's been done for longer than either of us has been alive-"

"I AM NOT DATING YOU!" 

"Well, you weren't dating anyone else," he said snidely. "And you accepted the claim."

"I DID NOT!" 

"You presented your throat to me," he told her firmly. "You were on your back, and you offered it. Had you not, I would've probably rutted against you until I was done, and walked you home."

Her mouth shut with a pop. She tried to formulate words, but there were so many things stirring in her head that she just didn't know what to start with.

Was this whole thing her fault?

Had Klaus thought she _wanted_ to be his?

"I thought you were going to rape and kill me-" she said, choked. "I thought I was surviving. I don't want to be here - I don't want to date you."

Completely unaffected, he shrugged.

"You're the one that gave me your throat," he said coolly. "Perhaps you should've fought a little bit harder, and you would've gone home."

Her heart broke.

It was her fault?

No, surely not.

He -... He was so much older than her.

He-

It-...

It was her fault.

"You're a monster," she told him.

It was the only time she'd ever tried to insult him and actually hit the mark - she knew he was upset because he bared sharp teeth at her. It was horrifying, that those vicious fangs lingered just beyond his plush mouth and she never really remembered they were there.

She turned her back on him with the intent of storming off, but his hand braced under her forearm like a steel band.

"How dare you turn your back on me?!" he seethed.

Her palm struck the side of his head, and he growled loudly. She tried to hit him again but he threw her, skidding into the den, and yanked one of the doors across.

"What are you doing now, _monster_?!"

"Don't worry," he said darkly. "You want a monster? You'll have one!"

Then he pulled them both shut and locked it behind him.

Caroline sprang up and tried to wrench it open, but predictably it didn't move. She banged both fists on it a number of times, but he didn't even shout at her. She felt a dip in her mind - a wave of nausea. She plopped down with a startled 'oomph!', then turned and crawled to the window, intent on squeezing herself out of one.

She was sound asleep before she even cleared the den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review for an internet high five


	12. Blood (part 1)

Caroline managed to lift her head as the doors slid open, but it wasn't Klaus who did it. It was Marcel - handsome as a picture, giving her a friendly smile.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said softly. He shut the doors behind him. "You alive in here?"

"Not by choice," she said hoarsely. She propped up onto one elbow, then blinked at him, squinting. "What time is it?"

"Nearly five," he offered, and stepped toward her.

"Don't." She threw up a flat hand to stop him in his tracks. "Trust me. Don't. Klaus will be weird about you being in the den."

She wasn't sure how she knew that, exactly. Mostly because _she_ felt weird about him being in the den. There was absolutely no way she was going to examine that, however.

"Okay, I'm over here," he said. He sank into a crouch, but didn't continue to approach. It was so nice to be listened to, for once. "You alright?"

She ignored it.

"Does he know you're here?"

"Yeah, he called me earlier." His smile, still quite friendly, dimmed a fraction. "You've been out of it the whole day, huh? Since he left?"

"Did he leave?" She shrugged. "Wouldn't know, I was locked in here."

"Yeah, he left." He tipped his head at her in inquiry. "He cooled down a little and spoke to Cami for a while."

"Didn't know someone could talk sense to him when he was like that," she grumbled.

"Cami's a saint," he offered. "And good at what she does."

"Klaus wrangle?" she said dryly.

He chuckled.

"One of many talents, I guess."

Her whole body was aching, several points of her rushing with pins and needles while she moved around. Her head throbbed like someone had punched her, and she grabbed it with a groan.

"Good for her," she muttered. "Make her write me a book."

"I think she should write a book for us all." A beat. "Are you alright, kid?"

"Like, considering the whole situation? No," she sniffed. "I feel beat up, but I don't remember falling asleep, so I assume he did it to me."

"Naw, if Klaus had laid hands on you, you'd know. Trust me." His smile was a touch too bright to be considered friendly, especially after that sentence. She reeled back. "You wanna get something to eat, with me?"

She swallowed.

"Where is he?"

"He's around. He thinks some time apart might be good for you." He stood, and offered his hand down to her. "What do you think?"

"Less Klaus the better," she agreed. She did not take his hand, just got slowly to her feet using the window for assistance. She pulled one of the thinner blankets out with her, wrapping herself up in it as a barrier for her nearly naked body and his eyes.

"You hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Not really. I can get... spewy, when I'm stressed."

"Klaus mentioned," he said easily.

"Did Klaus also mention he thinks we're dating?" she said thickly. "Because some Beta dickwad stalked me, drugged me, and dragged me over the wall to run in a forest?"

Marcel, to her unpleasant surprise, laughed.

"Yeah. Isaac said the humans don't know much at all about the way things are, over here - let alone what gets taught in those schools." He opened the door and lead her out of it, going quietly into the sitting room. "I'm gonna get you a drink. Don't run off."

She looked at her knees and took a seat on the sofa, accepting the sports drink he handed down to her without complaint. Even though she'd never met a sports drink she liked, she sipped it and didn't comment on the gross flavor. The last thing she'd swallowed was Klaus' blood, and the thought of that made her feel ick.

"So," he said evenly. "What's the plan now?"

"I don't have any plans," she said dully. "I'm going to die here."

"Maybe," he said easily. "But not likely."

"It's likely." She sipped her drink.

"As a human, or as a claimed woman?" he prodded.

She shrugged. He was asking too many questions, and her head was... not right.

"I thought I'd be dead by now," she admitted softly. "I thought he would've gotten sick of me."

"Klaus is a lot of things - tenacious is just one of them." Marcel looked at her, friendly smile never wavering. "He's loyal. He's powerful. He's richer than god. If you could suck it up for a while and figure out a way to love him, he'd do anything for you."

"Love him?" she repeated. She lifted her eyes to the vampire, then back down at her knees again. "How am I supposed to _love_ someone who is holding me against my will?"

"Is that the only problem?" Marcel asked.

"I'm ignoring the rest of the problems, like how many people he's killed."

"Lots of people kill lots of people."

"He's vampire Hitler."

"He's Hybrid Hitler," he corrected. There was a pause. "Could you forget that, do you think? The history?"

She shook her head and didn't say anything. It felt safer. She just sat there silently, and finished her drink, and then put it down on the side table.

"It feels weird," she murmured.

"What does?"

"Not having him around." Her heart lurched.

"Weird but good?" he guessed.

She didn't know. She ignored the question instead of answering it.

"I think I'm gonna have a shower and go to bed," she told him. "You can go."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said lazily. "I've been asked to stay and make sure you don't run."

"I don't even think I could, even if I wanted to." Her body was... super sore. And though she wasn't tired, per se, she was lethargic. Slow. Even getting out of the sofa was asking a lot. "Besides I just... I just kinda want to be alone."

"You don't want to go on an excursion?" he teased. "Not even a little bit?"

"He said he'd bite me," she said around a wad of fear in her throat. Even after attempting to clear it, the lump wouldn't go away. It marked her voice as thick and scared, and she hated not being able to stop it. "I don't want to be bitten again."

"So you're gonna stay put?"

"Yeah." She slid her eyes in his general vicinity. "Unless you plan on actively watching me shower, are you gonna go?"

His smile faded.

He flipped out his phone, unlocking it with a thumb print. He tapped out a quick text, sent it, and received one before he could even put his phone away. This single one was followed by several others in rapid succession.

"Here," he said, and passed her the phone.

She hesitated to take it.

**Marcel:**

Caroline wants to shower and go to bed. Should I stay?

**Klaus:**

No

Go

Tell her I'm in the dungeon

And I'll be listening for trouble

But before she showers she needs to pick a ring

Or I'll pick her a collar

"Does that mean anything to you?" Marcel mentioned.

She handed back his phone.

"It means nothing to me," she said, looking at his boots. "I don't have anything to pick a ring from."

A ding on his phone made him scoff.

"Says here there's an iPad in the kitchen."

"Whatever," she said, head down. She padded quietly into the kitchen and then picked up the iPad, which didn't have any kind of passcode on it. Marcel was watching the screen over her shoulder, though, so she didn't bother trying anything other than finding a ring.

Google showed her to a page of wedding rings. Some gaudy. Some simple. A few of them edgy and different. She found a ring that sort of reminded her of her mother's, and that made her cringe. Her dad did not have a great sense of jewelry.

The first page that loaded had something passingly nice. A silver band. A big diamond and two small sapphires on either side. Sure. It'd do. She selected it and handed the iPad to Marcel.

"I don't know my ring size," she told him softly.

"It's nice," he said. "It suits you."

"Yeah," she said, and tucked into her blanket. "Are you going now?"

He gave her a smile, and it was only then she saw it was somewhat strained. There was a pause from him.

"Do you need help up the stairs?"

She did. But thinking about Marcel's hands on her made her skin crawl.

"No," she said quickly. "No, I'm good. Bye."

"I'll just wait until you're up them safely," he placated. "Then I'll go."

"Fine," she said, and tried to get up them quickly. She barely made the first landing before she was out of breath, holding on to the balustrade to keep her world from spinning. Her breathing was hard and she shut her eyes, forcing her foot up the stair. Just one more. Just one more.

She finally cleared the top and looked back.

"Bye," she huffed.

"I'll see you soon," Marcel offered.

* * *

She could barely get her clothes off, and she had to sit in the shower. Her hair hung wet and loose from her head and needed a good scrub, but she couldn't be bothered. She curled herself into a ball and sat under the hot spray, putting her head to her knees.

"You'll prune."

She flinched.

"Go away."

"You haven't eaten, today."

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you planning to starve yourself to death?" he sneered. "I might allow it, if you're kept in such a humor. You're much easier to maneuver like this."

She didn't reply. She couldn't move. If she moved, he'd see her naked, and if he saw her naked, he might do something about it.

He exhaled a breath that rang of a growl.

"Get up."

She shook her head.

"Get up," he demanded. "Come here. Let me hold you."

"I'm naked," she pointed out.

"I'll undress to match you, then," he said snidely. When she didn't move, he huffed. "Caroline, I'll get in there with you."

"You'll do whatever you want," she muttered. "I can't stop you."

"No, you can't," he said hotly. "Because I'm the Alpha."

"You're the Alpha," she mocked quietly into her knees.

"_Get up_!" he barked.

The volume alone made her flinch, but she didn't move. She heard him stomp into the room and tightened herself into a smaller ball, squeezing her eyes shut. The glass door was pulled open so sharply a gush of cold air invaded her stall. The water stopped falling onto her head.

A large towel covered her, followed by him tucking his arms around her tightly. He smelt of acid, of an electrical heat, and metal.

It wasn't until she dared sneak a peek at him she realized why.

"Why are you covered in blood?" she said weakly.

"You wanted a monster," he growled.

"What did you do?" Her hand pressed against his chest but she couldn't have pushed him away even if she'd tried to. "Klaus - let go-"

"No." He pulled her on the slippery floor and tucked around her. "You need me."

"Get off-" she said weakly. She barely meant it - she knew in her brain, she shouldn't want him to be holding her that tightly, but her heart was crying for him to hold her tighter still. Her idiot hands, made dumb by his proximity, curled into his clothes and screwed them into her fists. Blood pooled between her fingers, and dripped down her arms.

"Poor love," he said, possibly not for her ears. He pressed a quick, scratchy kiss to the side of her wet head, and leaned back. There was blood spatter all over his face, and spilt around his mouth. He pulled the towel around her front and then pulled her into a bridal carry, heedless to her protesting noise.

"Why are you covered in blood?" she said again. She tried to lean out from where he was sprayed with it, dripping with gore, but she couldn't. He was the only warmth in her world.

He laid her out on the yellow bed and pulled the blankets down beneath her weight, making it so that she was never completely naked. Something was always layered over her, and she appreciated it.

Taking her left hand in his, he stroked the knuckle of her ring finger with a softness in his eyes.

"I like the ring you chose," he told her. "I think, when it arrives, I'll feel better for seeing it on your finger."

She stared at the smear of blood he left on her hand, and eased her palm away from him, covering it with her other hand.

"Klaus," she said quietly. "Why are you covered in blood?"

"You called me a monster," he told her. "So a monster I became."

"That isn't an answer," she started to raise her voice, but he talked over her.

"Unless you want me to continue, I suggest you call me something else."

She batted her lashes at him. What name could she call him that would make his temper mild? She knew a little too many random Klaus Mikealson facts to think of anything that wasn't _monster, bat-shit crazy, paranoid (with delusions of grandeur)_, and a _totally hot psychopath._

"Nothing?" he said lowly. "Nothing kind to call me, at all?"

"I don't-" she struggled. "I don't know... Can you - go shower? You stink." She wrinkled her nose.

He blinked down at her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Go shower," she repeated hoarsely. "You're not getting in this bed when you smell like that, and I can't think when you smell like - that. All that blood. And-... screaming."

The thing about his face was, it was super expressive. There was nothing subtle about the wide eyes and softened lines around his mouth.

"You want me in here?" he asked softly.

"Yeah?" She frowned. "Is that against the rules?"

"No," was the quick reply. "No, not at all, love, not at all. I just... I thought you preferred to sleep alone."

Like, intellectually, she did.

"Please go shower." Her hand pushed him. "I'm tired and you stink."

* * *

"Caroline," he said sleepily. "What are you-?"

"Sh." She tightened her thigh around his hip, angling him a little better to rock against. She was on her side to mirror him, making the motion a little awkward. But she couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop finding the delicious thickness of him, bumping against him with salacious intent.

"Are you dreaming, love?"

"Shhh," she urged him, snaking her fingers under his shirt. She spider crawled up his side and into his lower back, dipping her fingers below his waistband to try and drag him closer by the ass. "Touch me."

"I am."

He wasn't touching her _right_.

One of his hands was safely behind her head, the other on her hip. She had to let go of his ass to drag one to her chest, molding his palm to the shape of her, bending her back to fill the empty space. She pulled his other hand down, kissing the tips of his fingers, tasting fire and lightning beneath his skin. Curious, she sucked on one, just the barest hint of it pulling over her tongue.

"Well," came his very pleased Alpha purr. "Good morning to _me_."

"Shush," she demanded. She locked her heel behind his thigh and ground against him more urgently.

When he dragged her bodily on top of him she exhaled hard and yanked the front of his shirt down so abruptly it tore. She didn't think to apologize, bending to suck on his clavicle. She located the hard length of him with her sex-drunk crotch, and started to rock slowly against him with all her weight.

Sparks flew behind her shut eyes.

"God," she groaned. "Fuck. Oh my god. I want - Klaus, I want - I want to come."

"As you wish, love." He took her hips in his hands, guiding the rocking motion of her. The added pressure made her bones sing, and she clawed her hands on his shoulders down to his belly, then licked a bold stripe up his throat to his ear. The taste of him was like nothing she'd ever had before. She could _taste_ that he was sleepy and turned on, cautious but elated. It was _addictive_. She lapped at his pulse like a kitten. "Not that I'm complaining, but are you awake?"

"Sort of," she mentioned breezily. She kissed him in the middle of his protesting to keep him quiet. "Stop _talking_, Klaus."

"You'll be cross with me when you wake up," he pointed out.

"I'm awake," she told him, and licked his mouth. "I'm wiiiide awake."

"You're a terrible liar," he murmured. He kissed her for a moment, then cupped her head in both hands to hold her a breath away from his mouth. "And you asked me not to engage when we weren't conscious."

"You're talking too much," she whined. "Touch me. Help me come. I want you to."

He was _still talking_ when she linked her fingers behind his head to drag him up into a kiss. Her teeth flashed out to bite into his lip, and he vibrated with pleasure.

"Don't bite me when I'll bite you back," he teased.

"Then help me," she whispered.

He swallowed hard.

"Wake up," he said softly. "You have to, darling. You're not in your right mind."

"But I-..." She batted open her lashes. "I want to..."

"I know," he soothed. He ran his hands up and down her back. "But I also know that you'll regret it. Take a breath, sweetheart. Think for a moment, hm?"

"Can we get your shirt off first? Then thinking." She pulled the back of it up over his head before he could stop her, and threw it away. She wrapped her legs around his hips and smooshed her naked breasts to his chest, rubbing herself up and down. "Your eyes glow in the dark."

"Uh huh," he grunted. His hands took two handfuls of her ass for a squeeze. "Stop moving, love."

"Can't. Want to come. Want you to make me come."

"You're going to need to wake up, first, and then if you still want me to assist, I will." He pressed his mouth against hers, breathing in deeply through his nose. He steered her head where he wanted it, everything about the kiss long and slow.

As her hands twined in his hair, she felt him pulling away, and frowned at him from her elevated perch on his lap.

"Why aren't you giving me what I want? You push me and push me-!" she started angrily, but stopped, blinking hard. Her brain had finally decided to come to the panty party, and she realized what a dangerous little path she had been dragging him along.

With a challenging brow arched, the Hybrid looked half way ready to wrap his hand around her throat and straight rip it out for the attitude - Caroline tried to fall back and scramble away, but his hands tightened in her hair and on her flank.

"You're naked," he reminded her tightly. "The safest thing for you would be to get back under these covers and cuddle back up to me. If you run, I will chase you."

Hastily snatching the blankets to her chest, Caroline burned with embarrassed heat and wiggled off his lap to slip into the bed, presenting him with her back as she pulled the blanket around her tight. Nausea threatened her belly and a nervous sweat had broken out on her lower back, with tension making every muscle in her body tight.

This didn't stop him from tucking up behind her, his arm slung over the top of the covers to trap them down against her body. A gentle brush of his lips against her shoulder made her seize, but she didn't dare say anything in the event she pissed him off.

"Go back to sleep," he said faintly. Hot breath flooded her bare back, and she broke into goosebumps. "I'm tired, and you're exhausted."

She swallowed.

"I'm... I didn't mean to..." she tried.

"I know," he sighed, sounding unfortunately familiar. "It's alright - we've stopped. Will you sleep?"

"Yeah," she said on a breath. "I-...I think so."

"Good," he murmured, and settled in neatly behind her. "Sleep well, then, love. I'll see you in the morning."


	13. Allies

"It’s such a nice day out," Caroline said, upon seeing the view from the huge arch window upstairs.

“So it is.”

“Can we go for a walk?”

“So you can attempt another grand escape? I wasn’t born yesterday, love."

"No douy," she said blandly, and then looked at him over her shoulder. "I won't go running off on you. I can't. Obviously." As if to evidence her case, she shook her foot at him, where the most gorgeous pair of nude pumps graced her foot. Which - yes, very pretty, but not at all practical. She'd only worn them from the den to walk up the stairs, and already her ankles were complaining.

"So you are," he mused. "They're very becoming on you."

She didn't exactly answer him with what she initially wanted to say, which was _yes, you have a very good taste in expensive shoes. _What she actually said, with the most plain expression she could muster, was:

"Apology is not accepted." She sat properly on the couch. "I want my other shoes back."

"I threw them out," he told her. "So if you'd like to continue to be barefoot, let me know."

She screwed up her nose and eyed her feet in the shoes. God, they were pretty. And she could tell they were expensive from the red bottom, but still. He was trying to flash his money and buy her attention.

It was classic Alpha posturing, 101.

"...I guess they're better than walking around on glass," she muttered.

"The cleaner will be in later," he assured her. "To tidy the mess _you_ made."

She huffed quietly, casting a longing look out the window before she smoothed the scrap of fabric Klaus called a skirt over her legs. She had something else to gripe at him about, but wasn't sure if she wanted to push the point. If she complained about her shoes and he told her he'd take them away, what might he say about the fact that she was minus a bra?

"You didn't get me a bra," she mumbled, and felt her face heating. "Again."

"They're barbaric," he scoffed. "I've never met a woman who actually likes them."

"Well, I do," she retorted. "And I'd like my bra back."

"It doesn't fit you properly," he mentioned. "It pulls your shoulders and bites under your arms. When we're secure in each other, I'll take you and have you made some - if you don't see sense and continue to be free of them."

She folded her arms across her chest. There wasn't a doubt in her mind the slightly transparent blouse was intentional. It was almost like she could feel him leering at her, and felt her shoulders come up defensively around her ears.

He sighed.

"Fine," he griped. "I'll get your bloody bra back. No need for such a sorry state."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," she grumped. She looked out the window at the nice day and felt sorry to see it go by. A sudden thought came into her head and she turned to look at him, observing her from under his lashes. "Hey..."

"Mm?"

She swallowed.

"Am I-...?" she stopped. Looked down. "Doesn't matter."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"What were you thinking?" He waited maybe half a second, then prompted: "Tell me, and I'll give you anything you want."

"I want to call my mom without your gross compulsion," she said primly.

"So you can what, call in the cavalry and have my castle stormed? Even if I were so stupid as to allow it, love, I've weathered worse storms than your modern mother and a human troop." He inched closer to her on the couch, his elbow cocking back onto the backrest. If he extended his arm, he could grab her by the hair. "Tell me what you were thinking. I won't bite."

She glared at him.

"You're not funny."

"I am," he mused. He did in fact reach out, and twirl some of her hair around his finger. Apparently his weird werewolf connection didn't quite translate by touching her hair, because she didn't immediately feel the desperate need to sink into him.

She leaned out of his grasp.

"I was going to ask if I would be going to school with Isaac," she said coolly.

"Do you want to go to school, still?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She shot him a look.

"What do you mean, why? For friends, and parties, and to better myself for a good career?"

"When I introduce you to this society, the masses will flock to be your friend," he cooed. "And there isn't anything they're teaching that I haven't already learned."

"Ugh," she said, and edged away from him again, even when he'd made no further move to touch her. She pursed her lips. "Like you've got any friends I won't stab at the first given opportunity. I like Camille just fine."

"I don't need many friends," he said simply. "Nor do you, truly."

"Again, not your choice to make," she said, and looked at her hands.

It hung in the air between them, that weighty silence. She felt cornered for having acknowledged a world in which she maybe didn't get out of there. They hadn't spoken about the future at all. She still had studies to complete, and wasn't ready for university without them - but was schooling still an option for her at all?

"I would be the best of references if you wanted to pursue work," he went on quietly. "Everyone would fall to their knees at the opportunity to take you in. That's if you wanted to, of course, beyond being convinced it would be your only method of survival. You could spend my money as you liked, for as long as you live, and not so much as dent the interest."

"That's not who I am," she said tightly.

"It could be," he mused. "A lady of leisure. In the highest demand in every circle known to the face of this earth. Your good opinion would be the hottest commodity since I finished building this new house. Perhaps I'll give you the reins on building the next."

She popped out of the seat. One ankle gave a warning creak like she was pushing her luck to walk on it in those shoes. Her hands smoothed self consciously over the back of the short skirt and she strode to the opposite end of the room, wrapping her arms around herself.

When she saw where his eyes were, she hid her breasts with her forearms and scowled at him.

"Stop it," she scolded.

"Forgive me," he teased.

Alpha posturing was like, keeping the pack happy. He'd listened when she demanded shoes, but did it to serve his own purposes. But how could he refuse her, if she asked nicely to get out of the house?

She softened her expression and tilted her head just a little.

"Maybe I will forgive you, if you do something for me," she said sweetly, and began to slowly walk toward him.

"Why do I suddenly feel the hunted?" he murmured, watching her thighs and the little skirt. "And not the hunter?"

"Who knows?" she said, and took a much closer seat to him than she had before. When it didn't immediately inspire him to smile, she turned in her seat to put those pretty new shoes on his lap. She took great care to cross her legs, her skirt migrating high on her thigh, but not enough to flash him. His eyes tracked its rise anyway, his stare just a touch hungry.

"Are you baiting me, Caroline?" he said, a small smile curling on his lip.

"Depends," she said.

"On?"

"If it's working."

"It's certainly doing something," he murmured. "Feel free to continue and we'll see."

"I'm going to." She eyed his arm up on the back of the sofa, and slowly reached for his wrist, smoothing her fingertips over the fine bones just beneath the skin.

"You must really want something, if you so willingly touch me."

She didn't reply to that, even if it popped into her head to remind him that this was what he wanted. It was important to her that he let her get out of the house. He'd been staunchly against it, like she might see or learn something that would let her get herself home. So if she could get him to escort her, maybe he'd slip. Maybe she would see something, and be able to use it to her advantage?

"I like these shoes," she said evenly. She could actively see his chest filling - placating the Alpha desire to provide well for the pack. "Even though I've nearly broken both ankles since I put them on. They're very expensive, and they're pointy on the off chance you really piss me off."

"I thought so too," he said with a wicked grin.

"So," she cooed. "I'd never ruin these shoes in a daring escape attempt. And I can't walk, let alone run. So please, please, can we go outside? Let's go for a walk. Just a little one? You can carry me if you want."

He arched a brow at her, free hand falling over the high bend of her poor foot.

"If you expect me to be distracted by that little display, you're underestimating me." He flicked his eyes to her feet, and with one finger unhooked the little strap from around the back of her heel. He slid the shoe off and let it hit the floor.

"Be gentle with my fancy shoes," she scolded.

"I'll buy you more," he promised, flipping the other shoe off her foot and clasping both loosely in his hands. He rubbed his thumbs into them.

"Did you only buy me pretty things because you think I won't run away in them?"

"No," he assured her. "I bought these pretty things because I want you to be spoiled."

"If you really wanted to spoil me," she said slyly. "You would give me what I wanted, and take me on a walk."

He pursed his lips at her, a little annoyed, mostly amused.

She leaned her head back and looked out the window. The high green trees seemed to wave with the breeze, and she couldn't get her eyes off of such a gorgeous sky. It hadn't been too long ago she was convinced she'd never see it again.

“I’ve never been out of Mystic Falls," she mentioned quietly.

“I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere in the world." His thumb dug pleasantly into the arch of her foot, and then up, toward the tender underside of her toes. "Where would you like to go?”

"I've never thought about it," she confessed. "It wasn't important."

"What was important?"

"Friends. Parties. Studying." And then, idiotically: "Tyler."

His thumb kind of ticked against her foot, and she lifted her head to survey his expression with wide eyes, just in case he was going to get weird about her mentioning her ex. Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Her...Tyler?

There was a reason he was a ? on her file.

There was a beat, a moment of her holding her breath. His wrist went away from under her still fingers, and he doubled his efforts to soothe her arches with the heel of his hands.

"Small town boy," he drawled. "Small town life. You never thought about the whole world because he couldn't give it to you. I can."

She didn't answer. It wasn't safe to. Especially since she wanted to point out that Tyler had been her world at one point or another. She just let him caress her feet, his touch inching up to circle her ankles.

"Did you love him?" he murmured.

"Tyler?" she said, voice pitching.

"Mm."

She shifted nervously.

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "Because I'm never going to see him again, and apparently I'm dating you."

"It's not dating," he said, somewhat sheepishly. "Not in the sense you think of it. It's more-... lifelong. The bite I gave you was a promise that you would always be mine, yes, but I would be yours in equal measure. It isn't all doom and gloom. I could be kind, if I thought you were going to be kind to me."

What she heard was: '_if you lay still and let me fuck you, I'll buy you pretty things._'

Better she change the subject than go down that path.

"Hey, so, uhm, what did Marcel want to talk to you about? Was it about me?"

"No. I don't think you'll like what it was about," he commented dryly.

"You said it was old school guy stuff," she recalled. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," he said thoughtfully. "Someone broke some rather cardinal rules, and I had Marcel run interference for me while we're here, together. You don't strike me as the type to want to witness the violence I was tasked with."

"Would this 'violence' be why you got blood all over my sheets?" she said sourly.

"It was, as a matter of fact," he cooed, followed swiftly by a change of subject. "Could I take you to Paris?"

Klaus just watched her while she thought it over.

Caroline knew it, because she could smell it, that there was a low humming buzz of arousal still vibrating through the Alpha from earlier that morning, after they'd-... been together. It wasn't even, you know. That saucy, but still.

She wasn't sure she wanted to open up her throat to him like she was, even though he promised that he's spent himself elsewhere while she was in the shower.

Not that aroused Klaus smelt bad.

Klaus smelled really, really good. He was like a cologne of his own, and Caroline really couldn't pick what it was made up of. Something thick and earthy, like the way grass smelt after a storm. Kind of. She wasn't sure, but the longer she smelt it, the more it made pathways in her brain that connected her to things like pleasure and warmth.

Caroline recrossed her legs in her neat pleated skirt, smoothing it over her legs with faintly trembling hands. She'd need to shave soon, it was verging on like a week and the prickles were starting to get annoying. She rubbed the soft collar of the blouse he'd picked out and then up to the still sensitive spot on the back of her neck. She wanted to touch it. She ached to touch it... or have it be touched... but those urges made her feel so weird.

She fidgeted for a little while, shifting on the couch, accepting the foot rub.

"Why does my bite feel like I want you to touch it?" she asked the Alpha.

Klaus stiffened, going from calm and collected to stiff as a board, hands going still on her feet.

"Is it sore?" he murmured.

"Not sore," she said thoughtfully. "It's -... achy."

Klaus took in a big breath, and Caroline wondered what she smelt like to his well-trained nose.

"Because you're a part of me," Klaus said patiently. "And your body knows that."

Caroline frowned.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

"It's a blood thing," Klaus explained. "Your blood is in mine, and mine is in yours. From the site where I bit you. We haven't had smooth sailing - it might be asking for another bite."

She bent her knees and took her feet away from him, pulling her knees to her chest.

"You said you weren't going to bite me again," she said sharply, heart banging out of rhythm. She pushed herself back on the couch with a single extension of her legs, and then up onto the arm of the chair. "You _said_ you wouldn't bite me unless I was misbehaving! I haven't done anything!"

"Oh contraire," he drawled. "You ran off on me. Recall I should've bit you then."

She felt the blood leave her face.

"You said you wouldn't." Her hand formed a claw, a protective barrier around her throat, and she stared at him, holding her breath.

"Oh, stop it. It doesn't always hurt..." he started, then mid-way changed tack. "Would you like me to take a look at it?"

Caroline wasn't sure.

"What are you going to do?" she said slowly. Her heart was in her throat. She braced her back against the cool glass window and wondered if she'd die cleanly if she tipped herself head first out of it.

"I'm just going to look," he told her. "There's a chance that your body is rejecting it."

"What if it is?" she pressed. A dangerous bolt of hope flared in her chest. "If I do, does that mean I can go home?"

"Let me have a look," he rumbled. "And we'll see."

"But you're not going to bite me again?"

"Not today," he assured her.

She didn't move.

Klaus opened his arm to indicate she should lay her head on his thigh. Caroline tried really hard to make herself move, but every muscle was suddenly squeezing and she couldn't.

Klaus’ expressive brows pulled together, eyes sad and blue.

"I'm not going to bite you again today."

Even though the threat of him seeing up her skirt remained, she didn't budge. Her stupid idiot mouth! Why would she even mention if something was wrong with the claiming bite? If it rejected, she'd still be human, unless he bit her again and make her a werewolf.

"Come here," he said.

"It's fine," she said quickly. "It's fine. I don't need you to look at it. It's not that bad."

"You can come here," he pointed out. "Or I can go there."

She gulped nervously.

"It's not bad," she whispered. "It's probably - probably just how I slept, or something. Maybe stress?"

"Caroline," he warned. "Don't make a bloody nuisance of yourself."

It was in her to remind him that as his kidnapped victim, it was her life's mission to make herself a nuisance to him. But the flash of his eye color made her suck in a nervous breath.

"Okay, okay, just... calm down." Her hands trembled to bring all her hair across onto one shoulder. She rolled up onto her knees. "I'm going, I'm going."

She pulled her skirt down at the back, then laid out along the couch, pillowing her head on his lap.

The second Klaus' fingers touched the bite mark, she was _putty_.

She rubbed her cheek up and down, breathing in deep, purring out the breaths. She grabbed a handful of inner leg and dragged herself across the couch languidly, sighing as she leaned into more of him.

Klaus massaged the bite, thumb digging into the muscle, tracing the thickening scar.

Caroline hummed, shutting her eyes.

"Feels nice," she said.

Klaus took a moment to rub her neck, causing goose bumps to explode down Caroline's spine, before he lifted his hand. Caroline blinked, confused, still floaty.

"I don't want to take advantage," Klaus said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with your bite. It's just urging you to have contact with me. That's all."

She rubbed her own neck, and Klaus' thigh flexed under her head. It didn't feel as nice, but better than it was.

It was nice to smell Klaus, so close to the banging heartbeat in his leg. She barely restrained herself from nuzzling closer to his crotch. The low buzz of arousal Klaus had been feeling, that had become a much more powerful waft in Caroline's nose. It was... really, really nice. She frowned, a little confused.

"Is that...?" she wondered, and lifted her eyes up to the Alpha. "Is that because you're turned on, that I feel this way, or is it because I am?"

"Could be both," Klaus murmured.

Caroline licked her lips, eyes on the hardening length trailing down Klaus’ thigh.

"If you went away and jerked off," she said, just under her breath. "Would I know in our... connection?"

Klaus shut his eyes, only opening them when he looked forward.

"I don't think so," he told the blank TV. "You haven't every other time.”

“Have you done that a lot?” She squeezed her legs together, watching the flinch that rocked the Alpha. “Since you and I… started… hanging out?”

“I might’ve.”

"Why don't you go, and… fix, yourself, and then come back?"

"I don't want to leave you."

"I won't go anywhere."

"No," Klaus said firmly. "You're still keening."

"So?"

"So. You need me with you."

"I don't need you," she scoffed. "I'll stay where you leave me, if that's what you're worried about. Go on, Klaus. You can go and get some relief and I can just have some me time."

Klaus lifted his eyes to the roof.

Caroline stared at the cut of his jaw, along his beautifully arched throat. Her mouth was watering for a taste. Just a taste; just drag her tongue up along his scratchy stubble. She recalled how good his mouth had been to her in similar places.

"Do you realize,” Klaus muttered. “Where your hand is?"

She made a dumb noise, actively turning to look down at the length of her body. One wayward hand had disappeared under her skirt. She licked her lips, and laid her head back down on his leg, mouth watering for being so close to his crotch. He smelt amazing.

"No,” she admitted. “I didn't know. Don't you want relief?"

"The need to be near to you outweighs my need for release," he said thickly. He looked down at her, eyes blurring between the wolf and the man. "I would find it easier to concentrate if you got your hand out of those pretty panties, however."

"Oh, yeah, sure," she said, and pulled them over the swell of her ass, then down her legs. She kicked them to the floor, then cupped her own sex, rolling to look up at Klaus from his lap. She hooked a finger up into herself with a tiny gasp. "Better?"

"Much," he said, unblinking as he watched her hand move. Absent mindedly his fingers fluttered down to stroke the pricey fabric just above her nipple, so careful she barely even felt him.

"I didn't mean to start something," she told him. "I could smell you and I thought that if I suggested you go... tend your business... it might stop you feeling... like you want to fuck me through the floor."

Klaus growled, and was on top of her in a blink, his body suspended over hers.

He was so hot. The heat he threw was just incredible.

Caroline surged up and kissed him, turning her sticky hand around and rubbing him through his jeans. He growled into the kiss but Caroline only beamed, feeling completely in control of the situation. She stroked the strip of skin above his waistband as she kissed him, then thumbed open the button, and dragged down the zip.

"Can I?" she said, muffled against his mouth.

He growled something that human ears didn't understand, but made plenty of sense to her soul. A loud _yes_. A part cautious _if you want to stop, stop now_, was heavily implied.

Enthusiastically she dug her heels into the jeans to drag them down, while he kissed the side of her throat, one hand stroking the tender swell of her breast over her shirt. She shoved her entire hand in his boxers to cup him, finding him rock hard. The base of him, where his knot was, was only a little bit different to a human penis; but when she rubbed it with her sticky hand, he jerked like she'd punched him.

"Sensitive," he managed to warn.

"Like," she breathed. "In a bad way?"

"Softer touch required," he said on a breath. "Or it will be."

She made her touch more gentle as she explored it, feeling him growl with pleasure. The knot was just as warm as the rest of him, a firm circlet of flesh around the base of his stiff cock that would swell up when he tried to get someone pregnant. Apparently there was some kind of wolf chemical that would happen when a knot was squeezed inside a woman that promised pregnancy - but it wouldn't work for him, being half vampire.

Right?

His skin was velvety, and she wrapped her hand around him as best she could to give an experimental stroke.

"Do you think I...?" she said softly. It felt important to look him in the eye, so she used her free hand to steer his face up from her throat. Her eyes were glued to his yellow and black ones, fearless in that moment. He wouldn't hurt her. She felt it. "Klaus, can I...? Can I -? I want to- make you come. Like this. With my hand."

He nodded, mouth hung open, breathing hard. She tightened her legs around his.

"I-..." She craned her neck up and stole a kiss from his slack mouth, pumping her hand around him. "I want you to kiss me..."

"Yes," he hissed through his teeth, and delivered several messy smooches against her mouth.

"I want -" She kept moving her hand as though on autopilot, and waited for him to surface. His arms, holding him above her, were shaking. "This isn't - I'm not - if it's not good, can you tell me?"

"You're perfect," he swore. "You're perfect. Never doubt it."

She exhaled. Kissed him again, and began to work her hand a little faster.

"Oh my God what is that _smell_?" came from downstairs.

"What smell?" said Cami's calm voice.

"I'm not stopping," Caroline warned, continuing to move her hand around him. "I don't care if you have guests."

"They're uninvited," he grunted.

Isaac made a gagging noise and then shouted between retching:

"FOR THE LOVE OF - ALL THINGS HOLY - DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT IN THE DEN?!"

"Tell him to fuck off," Caroline demanded.

"_Fuck off_!" Klaus bellowed.

"We're busy," she instructed.

"_We're busy_!"

"Klaus!" called a female voice.

"FUCK OFF WE'RE BUSY," he roared.

"Unlike the rest of the teenagers in this house, I'm not phased by your pheromones. I'm coming up there."

"If she does, she's gonna watch." She heard Cami's footsteps up to where they were and bent to pant against his cheek. "And I don't want her to watch."

She glared daggers at Camille's blonde head as she came up the stairs.

"She wouldn't dare, love," he said thickly. "Because if she takes _one more step she'll lose her head_."

Camille stopped walking.

"Emergency," Cami said flatly, just out of sight.

"Don't care," Klaus ground out.

"I'm not leaving until I have your undivided attention," Camille insisted.

"GET OUT!"

Caroline had to admire Camille's unflinching resolution.

"Marcel has been abducted," she said coolly. "But sure, you finish up first. I'll be downstairs."

In the wake of her retreating footsteps, he growled through slightly sharper teeth. He was still hard and hot in her hand, but there was worry written in the line between his brows.

"Marcel is important to you," she realized.

He flicked glowing eyes at her.

"You're important to me," he said firmly. "Your trust is important to me. Being close to you is important to me. This - development - is important to me."

"Do you want to stop?" she asked curiously.

"Marcel is a big boy, and he can get himself out of his own messes," he promised her. Except she could feel him, trembling. Stress. Concern. A low, simmering rage. "He'll be fine."

With Herculean effort, she uncurled her fingers and put her hand up by her head.

"You're worried," she murmured. "I don't want to stop you from helping your friend."

He huffed, putting his head down to her boob.

"I need a cold shower. Will you join me?" He rolled up to press a quick kiss on her skull. He walked with his dick proudly out to his bedroom.

"I think I might negate the actual reason that shower needs to be cold," she muttered. "But thanks."

* * *

"It's everywhere," Isaac bemoaned. "You stink!"

"Don't be cruel," Klaus scolded half heartedly.

He snatched his keys from the bowl next to the door and pulled on some shoes (without socks, like a heathen.)

"Why is it in the den?" Isaac said weakly. "What if I needed to use it?"

"What is it?" Caroline said fitfully. "Is it bad?"

"It's not. Come here." Klaus pulled her in by the waist and planted a kiss on her mouth. Through the feel of him, she felt him soothe her embarrassment, and softened the height of her anxious heart. He pulled away to murmur against her lips. "He's being dramatic."

"It's actually so gross," Isaac said, and gagged. "Can I open a window?!"

"When you get a partner, mate, I'll remind you of this," Klaus warned him. He gave Caroline a quick smile, then kissed her again, speaking against her mouth. "I'll be quick as I can."

"Wait," she said desperately, clinging to him. "Wait. Aren't you gonna - like won't it make it so that you want to -? Be all over me when you get back?"

"I'll be an hour at most," he assured her, taking one of her clawing hands off his shirt to kiss her palm. "I'll behave myself."

But she didn't let him go, and he didn't make a move to leave.

"Klaus. Time." Camille walked out the door.

"Yes," he said, and bowed his head to kiss her palm again. "Be good to Isaac. He's harmless."

"I could stay by myself..." she trailed off at the dark look he gave her from under his lashes. Yeah. Not going to happen. She pulled her hand out of his and unclawed her hand from his shirt, taking a step to put space between them.

"Don't take your eyes off her," Klaus instructed the boy as he strode out. "She's tricky." He didn't bother locking the front door, which was... weird, to her. Did he think Isaac was that tough? Or did no one know where he lived?

Isaac peeked over t-shirt up over his nose, his eyes watering. She realized he was holding his nose beneath the fabric.

"Sorry Caroline but - _damn_!"

"I didn't know I smelt," she protested.

"No, not you - well, I can smell _you_-" he made an aborted movement at her crotch that made her blood go hot and fill her entire head "But you're not the - it's _him_. He's another werewolf and he's - _leaking scent _-"

"What?!" she said loudly. "Is it bad?!"

"It's _bad_," he confirmed dramatically, wiping under his eyes to collect a smear of tears. "Shit, I have to open the windows. I can't be around this, it's gonna make me puke."

"I'm sorry," she said. She shuddered at the cold, sticky feeling in her replaced underwear, and squirmed uncomfortably. "Isaac, I didn't know-"

"Not your fault!" he said, hurrying to the door to swing it open and shut a few times, holding his shirt over his nose while he did it. "He's doing it so no other werewolves want to touch you."

"Can he _not_ do that, or is he being an asshole?" she said, mortified.

"Probably," Isaac said, still wafting at her with the entire front door. "I don't know, I can't control that stuff yet. Ugh, god, it's bad - it's _so bad _-"

"Sorry," Caroline said, fiddling with her shirt hem. "Should I shower?"

"Maybe it'd take the edge off, but it's not really that kind of scent," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe help me crack a few windows?"

"Is it me?" she said. She took a deep inhale at her collar and smelt herself and sex, but nothing truly nauseating. Then she lifted the hem of it to inhale nearer to where Klaus had been. But she couldn't smell him. "Is it on me?"

Isaac had stopped fanning the door and was looking over the collar of his shirt at her bare stomach.

She hadn't meant to show it off, but her shirt had stuck to it was how damp her skin was. She felt the five raised claw marks on her skin that had healed as scars, and felt oddly self-conscious of them, hiding them in the quick shove of her shirt.

They didn't say anything for a moment.

"I know he'd never really hurt you," Isaac said quietly. He stood by the door to freedom with it opened wide and didn't bat an eye at her looking through it. She could see nothing but forest, and the well driven path. "He's... trying to be better."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice low.

"I just mean in general. Like, his temper is... way, way better, now," he said quickly. "Like - like when he came and got me, he was scarier, and Marcel said he was the most placid he'd ever seen him, and Marcel's known him for like... over a hundred years."

"What do you mean, he came and got you?" she said curiously.

"Oh! Yeah that's, that's a good point," Isaac nodded. "So he - he had a pretty bad thing with his dad, and when he heard about how my dad was with me, he stepped in. So now I live here."

"Klaus stole you?"

"Like, technically he did. But I was also being regularly locked in a giant freezer and beaten up for bullshit, so." He shrugged. "Klaus bit me and he turned me. But he did it so my dad didn't have a legal reason to take me back."

Caroline swallowed.

"Just because he's done one good thing," she said quietly. "Doesn't make him a good guy. He's done a lot worse for a lot longer. He's the bad guy. Like, The Bad Guy. The Mad King. A serial killer for hundreds of years."

"Change has to start somewhere," Isaac defended somewhat sheepishly. He gave another wave of the door and screwed up his nose.

"And what, that change starts with me, so I should let him get away with how he treats me?"

"Don't get me wrong - he's got bad anger issues and the stuff with his family is - not good -"

"The Mikealsons?" Caroline confirmed. "Hot older brother in a suit, gorgeous blonde sister?"

"And the rest," he confirmed. "Elijah and Rebekah are like, only on basic terms with him. I think he said they hadn't had a proper talk in like, ten years. But for them it's like a few months. We're so fleeting."

"Fleeting," she repeated. _Fleeting_. Her entire life fit so many times into however long he had lived. Would he ever let her go in time for her to have any life at all? "So he could hypothetically mean the best for me?"

"He does," Isaac said, surefire. "He does. It's just twisty how he shows it."

"So, hypothetically," she went on, folding her arms over her stomach. "He could rape me and forget about it by the turn of next century?"

Isaac flinched.

"He wouldn't. He bit you and that sucks, trust me I know, but... like the super bad stuff. He wouldn't."

The 'super bad stuff'. Caroline was convinced she was gonna get raped, or beaten. Some Kathy Bates, break-my-legs-between-a-block-of-wood crippled. Or chained up. Like a dog. Her hand braced the bite on her neck.

She had an idea. A slow, horrible idea. Isaac was clearly on Klaus' team, but he was also kind of on Caroline's. He had been in a bad situation before, and needed a rescue. Maybe she could play on that, a little bit.

"Isaac, do you think that I'm... getting along, with Klaus?" she said, lifting her brows at him.

"Are you not...?" he said slowly.

She shook her head.

"What makes you think I'm not still scared out of my mind?"

He blinked at her.

"You guys were like... gonna do it when we got here."

"What else?"

"Uhm, your smell isn't that bad and... you aren't crying?"

"Fair," she said, touching a little of her well honed sass. "But where exactly do you think crying and screaming was getting me, Isaac? How well do you think Klaus responds to weakness - especially since he doesn't seem to think he's to blame?"

"Yelled at?" he guessed.

"And the rest. It gets me dragged around, with the threat of taking away my humanity, or forcing me to do everything I don't want to do. So now you and I are on the same page," she clarified. "I'm playing the game so the game doesn't play me."

"What do you mean?" he said quickly. "You were literally telling him that you weren't gonna stop when we got here."

"Exactly." She could do it. She was smarter than Klaus. She'd figure it out. She was pretty sure Isaac could be key to her escape. "If I can make him believe I want him, and I'll do what he wants, he won't force me to do it, will he?"

"He wouldn't like... rape you," Isaac said with a wide eyed look at her. "He's never, ever done it."

"Yeah, right."

"He hasn't. Really. Like, of everything you've ever read about him, it's never ever been mentioned, not even once-"

"Or the people he raped are killed and thrown on all the piles of people that he's killed for every other reason," she said flatly. "I'm not risking my virginity on his reputation, thanks."

"That's..." He ran a hand through his hair, and thoughtfully eyed the door. He shut it and observed her reaction, but she did nothing. "Fair."

"I want to get out of here," she told him quietly. "I don't belong here. I'm not a wolf. I can't smell what you can smell, and I don't understand the pack the way you can understand the pack. Klaus did something good for you - and that's great. But Tanner took me out of my house, and put me in the middle of the woods on a full moon. Klaus hurts me and humiliates me and is keeping me here against my will - and I'm the idiot screwing around with him to keep the peace."

He winced.

"He only yells," he said sheepishly. "He would never hurt the pack."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just let him use every trick in the book to get me hot and heavy, like I have a choice." She folded her arms over her chest. "Who's idea do you think the bralessness and see-through shirt was?"

He chewed his lip.

"Not yours?"

"Right," she confirmed. There was a pause. She drove the nail deeper into the coffin. "To protect my body, I'm losing my sanity. What else can I do, when he's as powerful as he is? How else am I going to fight him off? I can't. So I'll just... suck him, and fuck him, and pretend like it's my choice."

Isaac looked at the floor, his broad shoulders hunching forward. He looked like a Labrador whose hair Caroline wanted to scruff.

"Yeah," he said, and nodded, still not quite looking at her. "I just -... I don't know. I thought I could smell that you were like... into him, a bit."

She rolled her hands into fists.

Where the hell did these wolves get off, that they could smell that about a person? Was nothing sacred?!

"I don't know what he does to make that happen," she croaked, and turned on the waterworks. "He says it's something about the way he touches me, but if he compelled me, I would never remember."

"What? No, no way," he said quickly, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Caroline, no, he wouldn't compel you to do - stuff, if you really didn't want to -"

"Are you saying I'm asking for it?" she said tearfully.

"No! No, not what I'm saying, oh no, please don't cry," he said, coming towards her. "It's okay, it's okay-!"

"Don't touch me!" she sniffed. "I don't know if you can make me do what he does to me."

"No, I'm pretty sure only the Alpha can do - that." He waved a hand up and down at her. "And- and I wouldn't take advantage-"

"Yes you would," she told him forcefully. "You're a boy. I'm a girl. And I'm here soaking in sex."

"If you don't trust me, you can at least trust Klaus, because he would kill me," he told her urgently. "Literally would kill me, if I hurt you."

"Yeah," she said on an exhale, and turned her face away from him. "That sounds like he's really changed his tune."

To that, Isaac said nothing.


	14. Chastised

Seeing as she didn't want to talk to Isaac anymore, she decided to have a nap in the den he wouldn't step a toe in. No dreams crossed her lazy mind's eye, but plans came like a flood of molasses.

Mosswood River. It ran all the way out of the compound and into the wolf territory. There was a grate at the bottom of the wall that was patrolled at night, on account of the dumb hazings that happened every now and then where someone had to go and sit there for an hour in the nude.

The grate was about as tall as her car, and about as wide. If she could get there, she would be able to hide against the wolfsbane bars, sheltered by the overhanging stone made out of the stuff.

Klaus wouldn't be able to cross, and someone would be by like clockwork to collect her.

But that grate was only patrolled at night. So she’d have to risk running either waiting too long in the day, or around in the dark, on top of all her other handicaps.

"Caroline?" When Caroline became aware enough to lift her head and peer at him from over her shoulder, he seemed a little frowny. He'd probably said her name more than once. Caroline risked a smile. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged, and shut her tired eyes once more.

"Did you find Marcel?" she asked around a yawn.

"Yes. Charmed his way out of yet another hassle, as expected." The wolf huffed, something that Caroline was only aware of because she felt the hot waft of his breath roll over her shoulder. "What are you thinking about? You're scowling."

"I am not," she argued, scowling.

Klaus smiled, carefully stroking flyaway strands of hair away from her eyes.

She sent Klaus a long side eye, scenting the continual buzz of steamy arousal in the air. She nudged the Alpha with her foot, then rolled to prop onto her side. Caroline gave him a small smile when the wolf stared at her.

She was almost a little upset at how hopeful the returning smile was.

"So, I need to get lady things," she told him simply. "Can you take me shopping?"

"No," he replied. "I'm not risking you on the public. Tell me what you need and I'll send someone to get it."

"Shampoo and conditioner, razor, moisturizer," she rattled off. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Wasn't sure why. It just looked like it needed a kiss. "A hair dryer and a straighter, a non-static brush. The _right_ shaving cream, some q-tips, nail polish-"

"Rebekah surely has nail polish upstairs," he quipped.

"Rebekah?"

"My sister. There should be some of those things up there. I will acquiesce if you don't like them, as they're from the ninteen ninties, and get someone to collect whatever you like by brand." He caught her next kiss with his mouth, and cupped her cheek.

"Why can't I go, even if it's with you?" she muttered.

"Because," he said, hardening his tone. "You'll do something stupid, like announce you're a human and get yourself taken away. You'll try and run. No."

"But-" she started.

"_No_," Klaus rumbled.

The hair on Caroline's neck stood up, throwing her bravery.

"You could- I mean, if, if you promise to-..." She tried to fortify. She needed this. Needed to see where she was, or get her hands on his keys, or see the passcode on his phone. Besides, Klaus had so much to prove, something like this would be his way of proving himself worthy. Right? "I would- if you had the uh, if you wanted, I mean, if- I don't -"

"I said _no_."

The little voice in her head that rung of her animal instinct told her not to push him. But she also knew that things wouldn't progress unless there was some basic trust going on, and risks needed to be taken. She needed to make Klaus believe she wanted to be his claimed outside of when his hands were on her. 

"What if you... compel me? Not to - make a scene?"

Klaus’ eyes were very, very blue. His whole face softened. Caroline fiddled with the ends of his henley, and looked only at the small triangle of hair peeking out from where she was nervously pulling at it.

"You want me to take you," he repeated. "Under a compulsion."

"You said-" she flinched. "You said, when I asked to call my mom, you said you could, monitor me. That's how, isn't it?"

"Is this a trick?" Klaus asked.

Caroline wasn't sure how to answer that he wouldn't hear it as a lie. So she answered with a not-lie, and a not-answer.

"I wanted to see the town and get out of the house," she muttered. "But if you're gonna make a big deal about it, I don't want to."

"Caroline, you haven't even been with me a handful of days, yet. You've spent most of it screaming your hatred."

"And this morning we were kissing," she retorted.

"It was a little more than kissing," he recalled, and dipped his head to kiss her again. She turned her face, using his chest as a wall to push herself back, putting distance between them. He growled through his teeth, and yanked her back with a hand under her arm, slotting her flat against him. "Do _not_ push away from me for the sake of making your point."

"I don't want you to kiss me right now," she retorted, shoving at his chest.

His face went stone still and cold.

"You're playing games with my affections," he sneered. "You deny me because I won't bow to your plot, not because you don't want me."

"Or maybe I don't want the gross touchy hybrid to put his filthy fucking tongue anywhere near m-!"

He snapped his teeth next to her ear, the barest hint of a fang catching the delicate arch of her cartilage. It stung like a paper cut. It was a warning well received.

_Please, please, please don't hurt me. Don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me._

She stopped squirming. She held her breath, and just listened to the breathing next to her cheek. He was too hot to be that close, swaddled in blankets as she was, so she was already sweating - but the sudden hike in her nerves is what made her back go clammy.

"I'll stop," she said, strangled.

She made herself pet the small triangle of skin by his collar, and when he didn't soften any, she leaned forward to butt her nose there. Her lips shook to kiss it, and her hands trembled to reach up and cup the back of his neck, but she made herself do it. Made herself comb her fingertips through the hair on his nape to try and earn his forgiveness.

She didn't know what scent he was giving off. It was strange. Part crisp, part metallic, part cold like a physical temperature. Unlike his arousal, this particular scent was new to her and she didn't know what it was. Didn't want to know. Didn't care beyond the fact that it didn't bode well for her.

He exhaled a breath, and lifted his arm from her to roll onto his back and put distance between them. His face was rigid, his eyes dull. He only moved to breathe and barely to blink.

She lay there, not sure of what he wanted. If he'd be mad if she moved, or not. She needed a shower. Her stomach rumbled.

"Go make yourself something to eat," he said flatly.

It took her no time at all to clamber to her feet and edge around him to skip out of the den and into the kitchen. The floor was still a mess and the cleaners hadn't come yet, so she stood on something sharp but didn't pay it much mind. She felt her ear where he'd snapped his teeth, and her fingers came away with a smear of blood.

Her chin wobbled, and her heart sank. He'd hurt her. Because she'd told him _no_. Good fucking god.

Keeping him with her mouth and her sex really was the only way he could be kept. She was a whore of her own making.

She pulled out a sharp knife and walked calmly to the downstairs bathroom, locking the door behind her and turning on the shower to try and mask some of the obvious bawling she was doing. Her body folded like a lawn chair to sink between the wall and the toilet, like she had when she'd first woken up in that half way point between hell and earth.

It wasn't all bad, but it was sinful.

She clutched the knife in her fist and really debated how deeply she could plunge it into her thigh. There was some important artery or something in there, somewhere in the middle. If she cut it, she could bleed out real quick. Hopefully before he noticed.

But he would, wouldn't he? He'd just, kick in the door and force feed her his blood, or lick clean the self-inflicted injury. And being in her leg, obviously the only thing from there would be for him to turn himself on and have sex with her.

And who was to say she would be able to resist?

She hadn't so far. Probably because she was disgusting and needy.

Tapping the pointy bit of the knife against her leg didn't help. It didn't even pierce the skin and it hurt. She was a sucker for not being in pain.

It didn't even occur to her that she'd left the shower on, she just got lethargically back up to standing and then lumbered to the door like a zombie. She got a flash of her face in the mirror and was horrified to see the blotchy, snotty mess she became after a good cry sesh. It wasn't like it wasn't due!

The lock didn't cooperate and the knife clattered noisily to the ground so she could focus on using both dumb hands for a one-finger job. When the door opened, she yelped at seeing him standing in the frame, leaning heavily against it, eyes set deep in his skull.

"Sorry," he declared.

She reeled back and hurt her hip on the sink.

"What?" she said thickly.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "That I hurt you. It won't happen again."

She didn't even know what he was saying, her brain was so flooded with misery. She just looked at him. Tears were still falling from her eyes. Did he know she'd considered death before freedom?

"What?" she said again.

"Your ear." His eyes went to it, and he took in a deep breath. "Caroline, truly. I'm sorry."

She stared at him, but not in his eyes. Never his eyes. Too dangerous. She wiped her nose on her arm and left a gross slick streak, then upset herself again and turned to wash it off in the sink with her shoulders up.

"Don't," he implored her. "Don't turn your back on me."

"Okay," she said. She didn't have any other words. Once her arm was clean she got some toilet paper and blew her nose until it was clear. She dumped it in the toilet and flushed. When she checked, he was still blocking her exit. So she fidgeted with the towel on the rack, then reached in and turned the shower off. He was still there.

"Look at me," he said.

She made a noise of distress, and staunchly kept her eyes on the tiles. She followed a bead of water as it fell, colliding with others to trail down the wall. At the barest sound of his clothes moving, she startled and jerked away, hitting her arm against the glass door. It wobbled open as he came into the room, offering a poor shield for her to hide behind.

"It was crude, but it served my point," he told her. He shut the door. Now there was nothing between them. "You reserve your kindness for when you think I can be fooled."

"Please don't touch me," she begged. Her back to the wall, she flung her hand out to grab the towel rack to keep herself upright. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Come here," he demanded, catching her face in both hands. He kissed her temple determinedly, and wrapped his arms around her, cupping the nape of her neck. "You're alright. Stop crying."

She didn't know what to do with her hands. Clawing him would lead him on, but shoving him away would set him off. So she wrapped her arms over her chest and hid her palms under her pits, winding herself into a knot.

"I barely even scratched you," he grumbled. He rubbed her back half-heartedly. "Come. That's enough now."

It wasn't. She hugged herself tighter.

He lifted her face under the chin and she shut her eyes with a short gasp. He tightened his hand when she made to pull away.

"Stop," he told her. "I don't want you to be scared of me. Stop crying now."

"Okay," she said shakily. "Can I go upstairs?"

"Can you-? Of course you can go upstairs." He huffed. "Caroline, open your eyes. I'm not going to compel you."

"Okay," she said, and absolutely did not open her eyes. She unwound one hand from her pit and covered her face. "C-Can I go now?"

"Look at me," he said, his tone more forced calm than she'd ever heard it. "Open your eyes, love."

She didn't want to. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to risk he would make her forget or make her feel apologetic for something. Hell, if he got inside her head, he could make her do anything he liked. He could make her play nice. Get on her knees. Ask him to bite her.

"I just want to go upstairs," she said. Her hand clamped against his wrist, trying to drag his grip from her face. Surprisingly, it went. "Can I please just go upstairs?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, but it felt like hours. The waft of his breath made her shoulders curl up, like it was somehow a threat to her. He was too close for her to feel safe.

"Go," he told her softly.

She clipped her hip against the door in her haste to get out, and ran.


	15. Monster (Part 2)

Waking up in the grand yellow bed should've been some kind of welcome relief to her. She had gone to sleep alone and woken up that way. She didn't feel overheated and horny, didn't feel the urge to fuck around with the guy who stole her in a bizarre mating run.

But she did feel his absence. Kind of like she was already used to the extra heat beside her. It was alarming, considering the short few days she'd been there.

She wondered if he'd claim a few more humans when she started to get old and crusty.

All that being said, she got up to use the bathroom and then climbed back into the bed. She stared at her watch and only mentally checked in every so often; it was late morning when she heard his feet on the stairs.

Dumbly, she rolled out of the bed and stood behind the bedroom door, bracing both hands on it like she could stop him from opening it.

Thankfully, he stopped walking and knocked.

"What?" she said tightly.

"Good morning to you too," he snapped back. Oh boy. He wasn't malleable when she didn't sleep near him. "Get downstairs and eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, do not start this again," he demanded. "Get your arse downstairs and make yourself something if you want. But you will eat."

"I'm not _hungry_!"

"If you think I won't chew the food and spit it down your throat-"

Caroline didn't hear the rest. She covered her ears with her hands and screamed, as loud as she could. Just let rip one huge scream. She shut her eyes and sucked back a huge breath and screamed and screamed, reverberating off the door.

He didn't smash through it and throttle her, so she thought maybe she'd gotten away with it. When there was silence, she uncovered her ears, and banged her head forward on the door, shoulders sagging.

"Are you quite done?" he drawled through the frame. His fist pounded against the spot her head was resting. "Get downstairs, or I'm feeding you up here."

His footsteps away were such a welcome relief. But the thought of having to face him made her head spin.

Could she asphyxiate before then? Tie something to the cupboard and choke to death? It wouldn't be easy. She'd always be in reach of the floor, and standing up, and she wasn't sure how good his hearing was, if he could identify what that would sound like.

Still. She didn't like the idea of him mother birding her, so she pulled open the door and crept to the top of the stairs, taking each one like it was one step closer to death.

The cleaners had been at some stage or rather. Another missed opportunity for her to raise the alarm and make some grand escape - if, of course, she didn't singularly believe that Klaus would kill them if she made a scene.

Her shoulders stayed high under his steely glare. She wished she had something thicker and baggier on, but all he'd left was the silky shorts and camisole that showed the outline of her nipples. She hunched her shoulders and made the most half assed coffee in the history of the world.

"Can I go upstairs now?" she asked the mug.

"Sulking won't make this easier on either of us," he told her bitterly. "And coffee is not food."

"Klaus," she said. "Really. I'm not hungry."

"I'm not saying have a full tilt fucking Brittish do," he snapped. "Have a slice of toast and be done."

She set the coffee down without even taking a sip, and snatched a slice of bread from the paper bag it was in. It was still warm from being baked. She smashed half of it into her mouth and swallowed before it had been chewed enough, so she felt every inch of it going dryly down her throat. She took a swig of the coffee to try and assist, then crammed the rest in and soaked that with a mouthful.

She gulped it down.

"Done," she said, and started to walk away from him.

He bailed her up with his mere presence coming at her like a freight train. For a horrifying second, she had wide eyes studying his own, trying to gauge if he was mad, or _mad_ mad.

"Don't look away," he instructed.

The compulsion settled around her like a blanket. She heaved for breath, hands stuck flat to the wall behind her.

"_No, no, no_-!"

"Don't be frightened," he said softly. Her breath came more easily to her lungs. Her hands stopped gripping the wall so hard, and her knees stopped banging together. "And don't move. Tell me. Is your ear alright?"

"It hurt when you did it," she admitted. "My foot hurts more now."

"What happened to your foot?"

"Glass from the kitchen," she told him.

"Did this just happen?"

"No. I did it yesterday."

"My poor love," he said, and cupped his hand around her cheek. "You've been through the wars."

She didn't agree or disagree because he hadn't intended her to. She knew that this was something she did not want. It was Not Good. There were so many plans he wouldn't like rolling around in her head, and so many things he'd be infuriated to know she thought.

Her little attempt to get Isaac on her side? The thoughts she'd been having about ending her own life?

He smoothed his hand over her head and then down over her shoulder. His gaze lingered on the pull of fabric over her breasts, and he wet his lower lip before flicking his eyes back up to hers.

"Are you truly not hungry?"

She nodded.

"I'm not big on breakfast," she told him honestly. "Unless I'm hungover."

"What do you usually have?"

"Coffee." She shrugged. "Sometimes a yogurt."

"Oh," he said, and stroked her jaw with his thumb. "I thought you were lying."

"You can hear when I'm lying."

"It's not as easy when you're cross, or frightened," he informed her. He brought her in to kiss her cheekbone, and then let her face go. "And you're usually some version of one or the other."

"Or both," she muttered. She blinked. Flexed her fingers. He'd let her out from under his spell. She tried to turn her face but her caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger to stop her from moving.

"If I were going to force you to speak," he said. "I would have kept you nice and compliant, wouldn't I?"

She was inspecting his face so closely she noticed he had freckles. Were they natural, or were they enhanced from the sun in his youth? Could vampires get freckles? (Like, the ones who could walk in the sun, obviously?)

"I guess," she said dully.

He firmed his lip and took his hands away from her, placing them both at the small of his back.

"Go get dressed," he said stiffly. "There are clothes and reasonable shoes in the den. We're going out."

"Out?" she said, frowning. "Why? Where?"

He arched a brow.

"You asked me to leave. You said you needed the mall."

Right. Quintessential Alpha behavior. She'd asked for something, and he was giving it to her.

"Oh- I-..." she swallowed. "If you're going to be-... I don't want to if you're going to... be mad... I don't want to. It's not worth it."

He studied her face.

"We'll see," he said, and turned to indicate toward the den with a flippant wave of his hand.

She found the clothes in a neat, thought out pile. There still wasn't a bra in the mess but she wasn't going to comment on it.

"Hey," she called, pulling her top off. "So you upset Isaac with your stink. Can you control it, or does it just happen?"

"For you? Given the situation we're in, it just happens." He was by the den doors, but wasn't looking. Which was... surprisingly kind. "Once I feel we're more secure in each other, I suppose it won't be so bold."

"You can't help it," she surmised. She pulled on the jeans. "Not wanting other wolves near me?"

"I've always been a possessive person, love. Six siblings makes a man greedy for all the good things he can get."

"Wouldn't know," she said evenly, doing up the buttons and fly.

"No siblings?"

"Just my mom," she confirmed.

"Ah yes. The file said your father abandoned you."

"Maybe the file lied."

"Was he a bad father?"

"Was yours?"

She lifted her face from reaching for the shoes to see how dirty his glare was. One shoe dropped from her numb hand.

"I had a terrible father, yes," he said sourly. "What about you?"

"He was fine," she said. He _had _been fine; he wasn't around to be anything else. She averted her eyes to the floor, and took a seat to pull the shoe on.

He didn't say anything for a minute; let her finish dressing. She grabbed the silky blazer, slinging it over her arm, and bounced over to meet him in the doorway.

"Okay," she said. "Where are we going?"

"You're excited," he mentioned evenly.

"Yeah, well. I want to get out of the house." She made herself busy by putting on the jacket, making sure her hands were only the barest form of shaky. "It's a nice day."

"It was a nice day," he said coolly.

She frowned.

"What?"

His compulsion made her feel sleepy, dreamlike. The first question made that nice feeling float away in favor of something nastier, more urgent.

"Is this 'getting out of the house' business a ploy to further your attempts at running away?"

"Kind of," her mouth responded.

_Oh boy. Oh no._

"Are there things you actually need at the mall?" he murmured.

"I don't need things."

"Would these things make you more comfortable?"

"Yes," she said patiently.

He hummed, dug into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. The second digit in the screen was a 9, followed by a 2. So she had the first three numbers in his lock code. 1-9-2. Awesome.

"Type in here a list of things you'd like, that would make you feel more at home," he told her. "Do not attempt to do anything outside of that."

"Okay," she said, and took his phone.

The tiny clock on his screen told her it took nearly four whole minutes for her to tap everything she wanted out. She'd listed a fan for the den, some more casual underwear and some bras, a hair straightener and some heat protectant spray. A pair of long pants to sleep in, a few hair ties. Some moisturizer, a toner, and cotton pads. She added sanitary items, just in case. All little things that would make her stay more hotel-esque than prison.

He took the phone back and gave the list a quick read, then sent the entire thing to someone in his contacts. He touched under her chin.

"You said this wasn't really to assist your escape," he said pleasantly. "How would it have helped you?"

"You would've trusted me," she said simply. "Because you know how scared I am of your compulsion."

"By virtue of the fact that you trusted me to use it on you, I would trust you in return." He considered that. "Clever. Not entirely without merit. I'm just a touch too old and paranoid to not have seen it coming, love, but credit to you for trying. So you weren't going to attempt to warn anyone of your predicament?"

"No," she said evenly. "You're too dangerous to bring any one else in."

"Good to know you're aware of my influence," he drawled, and stroked the side of her throat with a gentle fingertip. He considered her a moment. "You still want to try and escape me?"

"Yes," she said.

"You still see me as your captor, or your monster?"

"You are my captor," she defended. "You're my prison."

He hummed in thought, then dropped his hand to hers to link their fingers.

"I could change that for you while I have your attention," he mused. "Make it so that you want me, and need me, and have no fear of me. Wouldn't it be easier on us both, if you weren't actively hateful of me?"

"It would be easier," she agreed.

"Would it ruin whatever fledgling feelings you have for me, I wonder?"

"I would hate you forever," she told him softly.

"Ah." He stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Well you could hate me, I suppose. If I allowed it. Or I could take that away too, and you would never know."

Caroline's blood went cold. Her throat thickened with a fearful lump.

"Please don't."

"Why? You would never know. I could just wipe the memories - perhaps put something more kind in their place, hm? Wouldn't that be easier, if I made you fearless of me and then made you forget that you hate me?"

"Klaus," she said weakly. "Please, don't."

"Wouldn't it be easier, Caroline?" he cooed, drawing her limp hand to his mouth to kiss. "Instead of scheming and bitter fear, and sad attempts to run, wouldn't it be so kind of me to make it so that you never feared me again?"

"It'd be easier." Her chin wobbled. "But it isn't me."

"No, it's not," he said. "Perhaps then you wouldn't have my house soaking in the stench of your fear?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't help it."

"Of course you can't, love. But I could," he pointed out. "I could do it now, couldn't I? Make you behave as I like?"

"You could," she murmured.

"And there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it?"

"I can't fight you on this," she acknowledged. "I'm not strong enough and I d-don't have any... vervain."

"No," he mocked. "You certainly don't. A blessing you weren't born a century or two earlier, otherwise I would've had you compelled at my side like a precious little puppy. I could still do it, you know. Maybe I will, and get you to _sit_ and _stay_ like a good girl."

She frowned.

"Don't do that," she said faintly. "Don't be gross."

"Aren't I already gross?" he prodded. "Don't you already think me abhorrent and evil?"

"You're worse when you do it on purpose," she replied. Dazed, her hand drifted up to touch the edges of his pout. "The nasty stuff. Calling me a dog, or threatening to... take away my humanity. That's gross."

"Ah," he cooed mockingly. He held her face in both hands, his smile wry and eyes wide. "But don't you know? I'm awful. The thing under your bed, love. The bump-in-the-night that has you terrified. I'm the monster that other monsters fear."

She blinked at him.

"Why are you angry at me now?" she murmured. "I didn't even do anything, this time."

"_This time_," he said, and his eyelids flared open, showing her the white of his eye almost all the way around. "Oh, did you think I wouldn't be thorough?"

"No," she admitted.

"Pray," he goaded. "What did you think?"

"I thought I could get some information to use for when I make a move to run next time," she said evenly, against every fiber of her being that shrieked at her to _shut the fuck up_.

"Next time!" he snickered. He took a step closer to her. "Of course, there's a next time! And here was I, all the more a fool for thinking you would willingly lay hands on me? All those false kisses! What a show! I must admire your dedication, at least. You did have me putty in your capable hands."

Her brows furrowed.

"I never fake it when I touch you," she said tightly. "Because I don't want to do it."

"Ah, yes, but that's why you do it, isn't it?" he cooed. His eyes went awash with yellow and black, and she tried to reel back but he caught her arm. "To keep your monster tame."

"I don't know why I can't stop touching you," she protested. "I like you better when I do, but I know I shouldn't."

"Yes, how very confusing for you. Why should you enjoy _prison_? Perhaps I'll show you what a real prison, and a true monster looks like, that you can truly distinguish how perfectly _charming_ I've been to you."

"Klaus-" she started, but never got a chance to finish it. He had her in his grip and moved so quickly she didn't understand the world blurring around her.

What she knew was cold, dim light, a sensation of being thrust downward. She held onto him to keep her feet, and then shoved him away once she realized he'd lifted the compulsion.

He was grinning, positively manic, and let her go. He was backlit by the only light in the cavernous room - the door leading back to the hallway.

"Here's your choice of how to spend the day, as you ruined our plans with a little wayward strategizing," he said, too-keenly. His teeth were tipped with sharp edges and she took a step back. "You can spend it with me, cuddling, on the pull-out upstairs while we watch movies and graze on fine wine and cheeses-"

"I don't like wine," she snapped.

"Well!" he said, loud enough to make it echo in the room they stood in. "Then you must want to spend it down _here. _Do let me know if you change your mind, hm?"

He flashed away, leaving her to the slamming of a heavy door. She literally couldn't see anything except the slither of light that came through under the door he'd disappeared through.

"Whatever," she scoffed. "You say _here_ like it's a bad thing!"

Klaus didn't answer, but she hadn't expected him to.

Blindly, she reached out for a wall, or a bench, or something. She hadn't had time to figure out where everything was. 

"Literally anywhere that you aren't, I want to be!" she went on, temper rising. "_Anything _is better than you! Like I want to cuddle with the guy who kidnapped me! The same guy who told me, with his words, that he was going to have sex with me on the dirty forest floor!"

Her hand grazed something cold and solid. A wall. She flattened against it, edging with her entire back to feel for a light switch, or something to sit on. After a minute, she nearly fell into the opening that lead to the door. She sat on a stair and folded her arms across her chest. It was a little too cold down there, especially for a silk blazer and no bra.

"And if you think," she went on. "That when I'm ooutta here, the I'm going to let you do your sad Alpha touchy thing - _boy _do you have another thing coming. And it isn't you!"

She was pretty sure she wasn't going to have a choice later, given that she was equally obsessed with his hands as he was with hers, but there was no way she was going to mention that.

According to her watch - the glow in the dark feature did not help her see anything beyond the screen - two and a half hours passed by in silence. It was only after she herd a phone ringing in the distance that she became aware of the dripping. It was so annoying. A tap or something steady that wouldn't stop. She tried to ignore it, thinking about other escape routes, but after a while all she knew was a numb butt, cold, and the dripping.

"Ugh," she grunted, getting off the floor. She carefully climbed the stairs and tried the handle to find it locked. She hadn't been expecting it to open, but still gave it a solid kick. "I can't believe you! All the money you claimed to have and you still have leaky pipes?!"

There was a scoff on the other side of the door. She blinked.

"Klaus?"

"Mm?"

"Are you just... sitting there?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?" she said sharply.

"Your apology."

"Never, ever, ever going to happen," she informed him flatly. "You're the one who wants me, _buddy_. I'm the one who wanted alone time. The dungeon suits me just fine."

"It does while your surprise is waiting. But that'll change," he assured her.

"Well," she said flippantly. "I can't see anything, so I doubt I'll find much."

"The light is in the middle of the room. Hanging down," his drawl was a little too amused. She should've known not to be baited by that tone of voice. "Go on. Find the light, little human."

"Ew," she said, and kicked the door.

She should've known that he was too smug. That he had clearly meant to punish her. She should've known that he was vindictive, and cruel, and was clearly in a famous Mikealson Mood. She really, really shouldn't have been picked as one of the smart ones in the staged Hunger Games, because like... she fell for that, hook, line, sinker.

Her hand hit the pull cord and let it slip. Another hasty swing had it back in her palm. She pulled it, illuminating the space, and the very bloody body laying prone on the table.

Her first instinct was to scream, but for some reason it never got by her molars. Her whole body seized and she turned away, clapping her hands over her eyes - but not seeing it was somehow worse.

She peeked through her fingers and looked again. The body on the table was... mangled. Bits of muscle and flesh were torn, one arm was resting completely detached on the floor beside it. The person was wide eyed in terror, staring out at her.

But surprisingly, the worst was to come.

Because yes, there was a gruesome body, limbless and torn up... but there were still bubbles of blood at their lips. The slow wash of realization hit her that this person... was still alive.

She covered her mouth with her hands.

"Do you still believe you're better off down there?" Klaus called from behind the door.

Vomit burst through her fingers and she bent sharply, bracing against her knees to heave onto the polished stone floor. She fell to her knees in it, shaking, unwilling to see the desperation in the man's eyes, or look away from him. She heaved again when she saw one of the blood bubbles pop on his mouth, and looked to his chest, where a shallow breath heaved.

_Yup. Somehow still alive._

_I should put him out of his misery_, crossed her mind_. I could strangle him. It'd be nicer than waiting._

_I can't kill someone!_

_Well you can't leave him there like that, either. _

_Yes I can._

_No, you can't. It's cruel._

_So is KILLING SOMEONE._

_But wait! _jumped into her brain. _Wait, can't Klaus heal people?_

_Well he said humans_, she thought. _He said wolves could choose to heal humans with saliva. But this... this looks like a little more than he could heal._

_And I'm not so sure that's a human..._

_Yeah but his vampire blood, _made its way to the forefront. _His vampire blood should be able to heal anything, right?_

She tried to throw up again, but there wasn't anything in her to expel. She turned her face from the horrifying scene and then immediately looked back up at the man. Still alive. Just waiting, in agony, to die.

His face was... passingly familiar.

She batted tears from her eyes and rolled onto her knees, trying to place it.

There was so much blood... she couldn't, for a long moment. And his jaw was - not sitting where it should be. His eyes were human colored, but a touch of yellow undercut them. He blinked once, and then looked over at a table.

"And to think," Klaus trilled, apparently very aware she'd found his little prize. "You don't like wine? How does the taste of vomit suit you, love?"

She went to the table, where clothes were stashed. Even these were familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. A lump in the jeans pocket lead to a wallet. Inside it was an ID, but she still couldn't place him. Derick Mathews? Never heard of him. He was like, thirty, and a Mystic Falls Supernatural native. In the small plastic window, though, was a family portrait. The man, a woman, and two small children, hugging each other.

All sets of eyes reflected like a wolf's.

She wept.

"_Anything is better than you_," Klaus parroted nastily. "What about now? Is that better than me?"

A gurgle made her flinch and turn around. Seriously, she could see his lungs through the hole on his side. How the_ fuck_ was he still alive? She took two steps toward him, clutching the picture of his family in her hands.

It struck her a mere second later where she knew him from. He was the one who's car she stole to try and run home. He was the one who said he could smell the claim on her - who offered to drive her back to Klaus.

The man's eyes were full of burst capillaries and tears. She held up the photo and they flooded, fixated on it.

"I'm sorry," she said, choked. Her hand was trembling so terribly she didn't know if he could see. "I'm - so sorry. I'll - I'm sorry."

The man blinked, bloody tears slipping down his nose. He couldn't do anything else. He was barely alive, but totally conscious. She looked at his broken, torn body, and saw his insides pulsating, moving with his breathing and slow heart beat.

This was all her fault.

She lay the photo in front of him, propped on the edge of the table so he could still see. She hovered, trying not to gag in front of him.

"Was that apology for me?" Klaus hollered. "Are you playing nicely now?"

She wanted to stab him. Not just a little bit. She wanted to stab him in his lungs.

She searched the man's face. His will to live was gone, but his focus was honed on the image of his happy family.

"Derick," she said softly.

His eyes barely moved to her.

"Blink twice for yes," she whispered. "Blink once for no."

It felt like an eternity, but he blinked twice. Yes.

"Did he do this because of the car?" she croaked.

Blink blink.

She burst into tears.

"I'm _sorry_," she wailed. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve this. You didn't - you didn't even - he didn't even give me the fucking car, Klaus, he told me he'd take me back to you!"

Klaus might have retorted, but she couldn't hear it against the panicky breathing she was doing.

The poor man... He was mangled. And Klaus though thtat somehow made him the better option? No. The whole thing was - well, it wasn't her fault. But she couldn't just leave this man there, in that much pain, and let him waste away.

"Derick," she said, and gulped. "Do you want me to-?" She couldn't say it how she meant it.

Do you want me to kill you?

"Should I-?" She sobbed. "I don't want you to s-suffer... Should I- do you want me t-to-?"

Derick blinked once. Twice. Did that mean yes? Did he know what she meant?

"Is there something sharp?" Her wobbly voice barely penetrated the cold air between them.

He glanced at the wall, where there were several large, sharp things hanging from the wall. She blubbered to see them, crisp and neat, each with its own place to hang. Too organised, and not at all covered in dust.

As she approached, her brain was just... rolling. How had this become her life? She really, really didn't want to kill this man. But her morals... her squirmy stomach... she couldn't leave him like that, either. He was there because she had gone against the Alpha, and the Alpha had taken out his monstrous rage on this man. A family man. Someone who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In the end, she didn't pick up anything sharp. She put her hands over her face and sank to her knees.

"_Klaus_." 

The door opened, and he made a show of his boots hitting each step on the way down, taking his sweet time.

Derick gurgled.

Caroline couldn't even look at him.

"What a nice day up there," he said cheerfully. "Now. Have we discovered what real cruelty looks like?"

She wept.

"I'm afraid I'll need something a little better than that," he mused, casually strolling over to lean his shoulder against the wall next to the many, many sharp things. He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised.

The smell of him was -... not wholly satisfied. It felt - needy. He didn't like seeing her cry. He hated that he was the reason for her distress. But there was a large part of him that sung with vindication.

From that mess, she could piece together that he thought he was making his point. She called him names designed to hurt him, so he was going to hurt her. He never put hands on her or made her bleed, but this hurt was more than skin deep to repay her for how she'd hurt him.

Her blind hand swung out to touch his leg, meaning to find his hand. But she didn't want to touch him. She was mollified, sickened; touching this murderer, this hateful, evil man. She knew it was what he wanted - knew it was what would make him calm.

But even when she tried again and hit his wrist, the skin to skin contact didn't calm her. It didn't make her melt, or warm to him at all. She tucked her hand over her mouth and blubbered into it, making noises like her dad's dogs had when they were hurt.

There was a pause.

"I can heal him," he told her.

She couldn't get enough air in her to speak, let alone think of what to say to that.

"I can, if you ask me. I can make it all go away..." He crouched, and looked at her with glowing eyes. "I can ease his pain. End the suffering. Send him back to his pretty wife and little children. All I need from you... is to look me in the eye, and ask your Alpha nicely."

She gagged. Only bile rushed her mouth, and she spat with a hard, barking cough. He touched her head and she cowered from him, shrinking in revulsion.

"My poor love," he soothed. "Don't fear your King."

He'd promised her a monster, hadn't he?

"Ask me," he said, almost kindly.

She couldn't speak, so she cried, bent into a small ball, with a dying man at her back and a Hybrid watching less than a meter away.

"He's slipping," he told her boldly. "You're running out of time."

Her hands covered her mouth to try and trap the crying. It just poured out of her, because she knew she wouldn't give in. It would be the end of her life if she let him bully her into it. But who was she, to play god, and end another man's life? She wasn't worth more than he was - in any case, a father, and a kind man. Wrong place, wrong time. Just like the circumstances that forced her on her knees in The Hybrid's dungeon.

She didn't want Derick to die, but she couldn't let Klaus win, either.

"Just look at me," Klaus goaded warmly. "Ask me. Add a 'please, Alpha', and I will do it for you."

She shook her head. The barest twist of her neck.

"Really?" he mused.

As words flooded her head, all of them congealed to a clump at the back of her throat. She gagged and spat out more bile, the hand she braced on the floor catching the worst of the splash back.

"How I do adore your strength." He touched the back of her head and got to his feet. "No matter. What to do with you, then, mate?"

He strolled around with a big sigh.

"Quite the mess I made here," he said thoughtfully. "Isn't it, Caroline?"

There was only barely audible breathing (gurgling, wheezing. No longer breathing. Caroline had seen that man's lungs and she was sure it didn't count).

"Well, she won't save you to condemn herself, but I would hate to ever deprive a young pair their father," he announced. "And god knows I've got enough blood vendettas on my back to last several more lifetimes. I don't need anymore. What do you think?"

Caroline didn't know who he was talking to - her or the mostly dead guy? She felt three inches high and like she was sinking into the stone and floating off into the sky. Her body was made of rubber, and her throat was tied in knots, and everything was hot and cold and slimy and prickling like a thousand needle sharp bugs.

She threw up a little more into her corner, her throat closing on an empty exhalation. She couldn't breathe for her stomach trying to violently reject itself.

"She'll be fine. Open wide," he said, his manner everything friendly in the world. "Drink deep, friend. Don't be shy. There's a man."

Daring to peek over her shoulder revealed Derick latched on to Klaus' wrist, his jaw still wildly off kilter. His eyes were shut and there were tears running down his nose. His one attached arm was delicately holding the picture of his family.

Caroline stumbled to her feet and bolted for the stairs.

"You'd better be there when I come up," Klaus called, not sounding at all bothered. "Or I will be making you watch what I'll do to your friend here, when I catch you."

She fell and sprawled against the floor hard enough that she skidded an inch and knocked the air out of her lungs. She gasped for air while she scurried to the den, mostly on hands and knees without getting upright after the initial fall. It felt right to dive into the pile of pillows and blankets, even though her clothes smelt like death and vomit. She peeled out of them and tossed them out into the hallway, then hid under many, many layers of blankets. Her body contracted into a small ball, and she hugged a pillow tight to her bare belly like a child and tried to remember how to breathe.

Klaus' footsteps were loud and with purpose.

"If this is what I had to do to get your clothes off..."

Caroline didn't say anything.

"You'll be staying in the den with me tonight, won't you?"

Well. She wasn't going to tell him no. Not after all of that.

"Is there any point asking you to eat something?" he mused. "I'm going to make dinner. Steak?"

How could he possibly be thinking about food?

"No," she croaked, and quickly tacked on: "Thank you, Alpha."

There was a pause.

"How polite," he said lightly. After a minute, a little curiously, he added: "You should bathe."

"Yes Alpha," she said into the cocoon. It was surprisingly easy. She didn't want to step out of line. Fear and shock ruled her mindless obedience, and she stayed hidden under the blankets like a lifeline. She couldn't stand to think of his smug face - his awful dimpled smile - so she kept his face hidden.

"Should I get you some more clothes?"

Her stomach lurched. She knew her sane self would tell him yes. But she didn't feel quite sane.

"Whatever you want," she told him.

"Ah," he said, mock happily. "Acquiesce! And all it took was a little torture. Wonderful. You're right, you know. I'd like you naked, so you can stay that way."

She shook. Of course.

"Yes, Alpha."

There was a pause, and she didn't hear him move away, so she assumed he was still there, watching. She didn't want to move. She felt icy in ways she didn't think was possible when she was so covered.

"I suppose I'll make myself scarce," he said slowly. He made deliberate noises as he walked away, the thud of his boot clearly for her benefit, shutting the basement (dungeon?) door with a loud thud.

The smell of him in the doorway was more displeased than she had ever known him to be.


	16. The Perfect Alpha

The act of showering and waiting naked in the den blurred into a mess. She knew where he was because he was whistling the entire time. There was something horrifying about hearing him approach from down the hall, even if the tune was jaunty.

He stood in the den's door, eyes bright yellow as he cast them over her.

"Is this what your good behavior looks like?" he wondered, cocking a brow.

She was waiting with her legs crossed at the ankle, back to a window. Sweating, but still, her hands linked in her lap. Completely naked, as he directed, shivering from shock and the cool glass behind her. She'd finger combed her hair as best she could and was looking at his boots.

"Because I should warn you, I could get used to it," he teased. He toed off his shoes and came into the den with a quiet urgency, coming to stand next to her. He went to his knees and bent to lay a kiss on her shoulder, inhaling hard against her skin. "Camille said you were probably going to go into shock."

"No, Alpha."

"No?" He pressed his mouth to her skin again. "What is this, then?"

She didn't know. Didn't have words.

"I do_n't want_-!" she said, but couldn't finish for the hysterical edge her voice had taken on. She didn't want him to touch her, but she couldn't make him go away. Her lips shook. "I'm being what you want."

"Are you?" he said lightly. "Naked, yes. Quiet? Not as much. Where is the fire in your belly, Caroline? Did I put it out?"

She didn't know what he wanted to hear. She just sat there and waited.

His hand stroked the slope of her breast, fingertip circling her pebbled nipple. It felt icy, and she felt her shoulders hike with tension. He traced the swell of her breast down to her sternum, and pressed his knuckles there.

"I'll be - I'll do whatever you want," she decided to say.

"That's a given," he quipped. "But will you do it gladly, love, or will you do it to keep me from being the monster we both know I am?"

"I'll do what you want," she repeated. "However you want it."

"Ah," he chuckled. It was not kind. His hands, usually piping with heat, were like ice blocks on her skin. He stroked upward, to the hollow on her throat. "And you said you weren't obedient. Listen to your pretty words now."

He bent down to kiss the height of her breast, flat teeth dragging over her skin. Nothing was pleasant. Everything was a threat. She blinked away tears from already swollen eyes, because he didn't like it when she cried.

"Now," he said, and lifted his head. "Do you understand I can be cruel?"

"Yes, Alpha."

"Have I made it clear that I have been good to you?"

"Yes," she whispered, shaking.

"I could just as easily be the evil rapist you've had me pinned as," he sneered. "But I have been considerate, and I have been patient. Haven't I?"

"Yes, Alpha."

"I'll be your monster, if you like." His threatening voice was so much scarier than she had ever heard it. "If you want me to play the part of the big bad wolf, Caroline - if you want me to have you weeping and frightened, I can. If you think I'm going to toss you in an iron cage and drag you out to play with like a fuckdoll, I will. I'd personally prefer to have you served in luxury and glamour, kept happy and sated on my arm, but if you insist on acting the damsel, I'll play the villain."

"I don't want that," she said, and wiped her face.

"Then stop bloody acting like it," he demanded. He took a pause, staring at her hard. "I want you safe and kept in comfort. I want you in my den and in pretty dresses. I want your blood and your willing touch on me, though that doesn't strictly mean I will fuck you."

It crossed her mind to ask him _why_, if he wasn't going to fuck her, _did he want her in the den?_

But it occurred to her immediately after that she already knew. 

He was lonely. 

She could feel it in the tilt of his sad brow, the arch of his expectant mouth. He was ready for her to protest and hate him, and she had no doubt that if she kept pushing him, he'd act like the bad guy.

"You seem to think that I want you scared and hurt and miserable. Let me be very clear: I don't," he sniffed. He seemed hurt. (He could join the club.) He turned his face to try and hide it, but she'd already caught a glimpse and knew it for what it was. "But if you'd prefer to carry on the way things have been, by all means. I'm very good at this game. I've played it for a thousand years. Would you like to play?"

She wiped her face again.

"No thank you, Alpha," she told him.

"Good," he said. There was a pause. He pressed a kiss on her shoulder again. "Come out now, Derick."

What was a man stood in the den's doorway, mangled, with one arm, his heart and lungs exposed for the hole his missing ribs framed. He clicked his fingers and the gore vanished - Marcel stood in his place, his usually friendly smile no where to be seen.

"Hey gorgeous," he said softly. 

The man was... a vision? Some kind of... spell?

Caroline covered her breasts with her arms and looked at her knees. The trembling that started made her muscles contract hard enough to hurt.

"That man," Klaus told her coolly. "Who let you take his car - he does exist. And he does have two children. But he's a friend of Marcel's, you see, and well as an upstanding member of the community. When Marcel tracked him to his home, Derick explained what happened; he plead his case quite well. It’s rather nothing to borrow a witch to cast a glamour, you know. Make you see his visage. I have many strings I can pull when I’ve been inspired."

He stroked her hair over the shell of her ear.

"But-" she choked. "There was blood-... You came into the yellow room, the other day - you were covered in bl-lood?"

"Part of the trade I have with the police force on your side," Klaus mentioned quite cheerfully. "They give me their most heinous re-offenders and no-hopers. I eat them. The one I received that night was truly corrupt, and I was in a mood, so I destroyed him."

She breathed out through her nose.

So this whole thing was... a trick? A mean... gory... sickening trick? Witchcraft? A glamour?

"Okay," she said softly.

"Is that all?" Klaus mused. "Not even a curse to my name?"

She shook her head.

"No, Alpha," she said faintly. "I've learned my lesson."

He studied her for a long moment.

"Hey," Marcel said throatily. "Can I have a word with you, over here?"

He was a blessing, but he'd still played a part in that horrible little game.

Klaus turned her face up to him with the crook of his finger under her chin. She focused her gaze only on his necklaces.

"Stay here," he said lightly.

She didn't dare fucking move, not even to rest her head against the window. She stayed with her legs shut, arms over her chest, staring at the space he had been. She couldn't hear them talking, but she could smell Klaus' chemistry changing. Whatever Marcel was saying was... making him feel guilty?

_Marcel,_ she realized. _Is really important to him._

But he wouldn't be her ally, would he?

Guilt was a strange flavor. It was like a bitter grass - wheaty, and dry. Her hand made an aborted movement to cover her nose then recovered her naked breast.

When Klaus reappeared in the doorway, he even looked the part of someone who felt bad for the things they had done - big eyes, lowered head, pouting bottom lip.

"I'll see you around, Caroline," Marcel said with a wave, and shut the front door behind him.

_Boy I hope not._

She didn't speak. She just looked at the floor near Klaus' feet.

"You need to eat something," he said finally. "It's been too little, for too long. I won't force an entire steak, but I'll make something for you and I expect some of it to get eaten."

She privately agreed, but as he hadn't asked a question she wasn't going to answer.

"Will you eat in the kitchen?"

That was a question, but she didn't need to verbalize an answer. Her blood throbbed hotly around her neck and she felt an anxious swoop in her gut, but she quietly got to her feet. Her hand covered her crotch and she burned in embarrassment, but stood there with her head down.

"You can get dressed," he said, voice strained. "There are clothes of mine upstairs you're welcome to for tonight."

Firming her lips, she covered her breasts with her free arm, and felt her shoulders hike. There was a long minute of standing, then he rubbed his eyes.

"I'll leave you to it," he murmured.

She didn't go upstairs. She didn't pull anything on to cover her nakedness. This had been what he demanded of her when he was being nasty.

She could taste the air shift when she appeared, nervous and trembling, naked in the kitchen. A vague interest moved against his bitter guilt, and a swell of heat touched the edges of it. It dampened significantly when she stood quietly by the door, still trying to cover her various parts with only her hands.

The food smelt good, at least, doing something to cover the flare of his scent between them. There was a juicy steak in a fancy pan, and an assortment of veggies. She sensed he looked at her but she only watched his hands on the knife.

"Caroline," he said softly.

"Yes, Alpha?"

He put the knife down. The gleam of it flashed into her eyes. She wanted to dig it into his chest.

"You don't have to be naked," he told her.

"You want this from me," she replied. "I'll do as my Alpha wishes."

It was literally a line spoken in every bodice-ripper known to man. She was doing everything to keep her crying behind her lids, blinking furiously. Nothing could hide the full cheeked blush that started to edge down her neck, but at least she could handle the tears.

"I know I said so," he acknowledged.

"This is what my Alpha wants," she went on, almost a perfect quote from last year's summer blockbuster. "My will is yours."

"Don't say that," he murmured. "I don't want that."

"Yes you do," she said clearly. She tightened her arm over her chest.

He took a step around the island and she tried to dig her heels in, but when he took just one step closer she started to back away. Four hurried little steps to his singular one, which effectively made her hit the other side of the doorway.

There were many moments of silence, where the steak hissed and the water boiled behind it. She stared at his socked feet and swallowed down all the things she wanted to say. She wasn't sure what she smelled like to him, but he was a mess. A mix of all sorts of things, twisted into something confusing for her to decipher.

She understood guilt, lust and an edge of something like possesion; everything else came and went in bursts.

"You're shivering." A beat. "If you won't go and get dressed, I'll have to hold you near to me and keep you warm."

Forcing her feet to take her there, she approached him, eyes always on his feet. It was aggressive to look an Alpha in the eye. She stopped within arm's reach.

"As you wish, Alpha."

He pulled her in under the arm, wrapping both of his around her to urge her flush along his body. One hand cupped the back of her neck - the site of his bite mark zinged, and his hand flexed around it. The other splayed across her back. His warmth was back, but she didn't feel particularly inclined to go crazy and try and kiss him.

"It won't always be so hard, between us," he promised her lowly.

"Yes, Alpha."

He cringed, and she actively felt it.

"Put your arms around me, love," he urged. "Let me soothe your soul."

_The soul you tried to put out, you mean?_

She dutifully put her arms around him, even though it left her incredibly vulnerable to be full frontal while she was full frontal. She couldn't help but cant her hips back, keeping a barrier of distance between his crotch and hers. He didn't comment or pursue it.

He stroked her spine with the backs of his knuckles, edging too close to the top of her ass. On every pass, she tensed a little more. Even though she was naked, and he was touching her - the weird compulsion to be held and to engage with him was... completely gone.

Her arms dropped to her sides, but he didn't let her go.

"Poor love," he murmured, his breath ghosting over her shoulder. He petted her hair away, planting several small kisses to her bare skin. "You're freezing."

He wasn't. His heat was delicious. But there was nothing in her that demanded she hold him back; no idiot hands, no disobedient mouth. She just lifted her chin over his shoulder and stared at the roof.

"Won't you hold me?" he asked softly.

"My will is yours," she repeated, and put her arms back around him, hands flat on his back.

"Not like that," he said.

"How should I hold you?"

He tightened his arms around her.

"Like you want me," he said. "Like before."

She burned in rage and defiance. She knew at their proximity he wouldn't miss it - his exhaled: '_there's my girl_', did nothing but stoke her inner flames higher. She put her claws in his back and brought herself closer to him, keeping her naked sex from his.

"I want you," she said, and could not have meant the opposite more.

He sucked a mark against her throat to add to all the other ones, and wound his fingers into her hair to steer her back, his gaze open and soft on his face. She stared resolutely at the roof.

"I've frightened you," he acknowledged.

"You taught me my lesson," she said softly. "I'm grateful for what you've given, Alpha."

He took her face in his hand, thumb smoothing over her cheek.

"I've upset you," he continued. "I've broken what little good there was between us."

"No, Alpha. Evey thing you do is good and perfect."

He scowled. Tried to make her look at him.

"I rarely do anything good," he scoffed. "Let alone when it comes to you."

"You're the perfect Alpha," she recited. Almost from memory. It was all the same, those books and movies - she'd seen enough in her early teens to whip out a lame line or two. Those angsty werewolf love stories had seen her through her sexual awakening, after all. "You can do no wrong by me."

He hissed through his teeth.

"Caroline," he said. "Rage, yell, throw things at me. Don't disappear into yourself."

"I'm not going anywhere, Alpha."

He leaned back, framing her face with both hands, trying to catch her eyes. But she wouldn't do it. All he'd have to do was compel her, and she'd forget, or never want to run away again. When he couldn't catch her gaze, he pulled her in to press a firm kiss to her slack mouth.

She didn't respond. No rush of heat, no tingles, no butterflies. Her stomach lurched, sure, but that was not from any kind of good vibes thing he was trying to stir up in her.

"I don't want your fear," he said, not for the first time. Not for the first time, she didn't believe him. Why else would he lock her in his dungeon, and make her see some awful torn up body? "You're so cold, love."

She refused to say what she was thinking, but that didn't mean it didn't get thought. Loudly. She absolutely rallied on the inside, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest with the knife he'd been using to cut vegetables.

"You have more than a touch of bloodlust in you," he said lowly. "You'd make an excellent vampire. A mouthful of my blood, a quick twist-"

"You _said_-!" she started reflexively, jerking her head away from his hands. But that was what he wanted, to get a reaction. So she eased a breath out of her mouth, and looked at his chin. "As my Alpha wishes."

"You want to hurt me, sweetheart?" he goaded. "If that'll put you in a better humor - one that might want me to touch you - I'll allow it. Go on." He spread his arms wide and took a step back.

Her immediate reaction was to cover herself with her hands and arms. She stared at the layers of necklaces on his chest, then his feet.

"Take your recompense," he said. "Hurt me."

Instead of that, she took a seat on the island counter, casting her eyes to the ground.

"Your steaks are burning, Alpha," she said.

He turned the heat off.

"Caroline, if it'll make you feel better, hurt me," he goaded. "You can't do anything to me that hasn't been done."

Her eyes dropped to the knife.

"A weapon?" he said, and reached across to pick it up, and hand it to her handle first. "Have at it. Indulge your thirst for pain. I deserve it."

When she only stared at the knife in his hand, he snatched the arm that lay across her breasts and forced it open and shut around the handle. He dragged it to point at his solar plexus, and gave her a head start shove that punctured the skin of his belly.

As soon as he let her hand go, she removed the knife, set it aside, and put her hand over the wound on his stomach. She gave a little push, and he went.

"If my Alpha pleases," she said, forcing herself to sound as though she hadn't just felt his skin break under her knife. "I'd like to eat now."

She wasn't going to be able to stomach much, but whatever repentant mood he was in was like, too much to deal with.

"If it'll make you feel better," he said. "I want you to do it. Hurt me."

_There are so many other ways I could hurt you_, she thought with venom. She looked at the salad. Her stomach, famished, gave an awful growl. _You can just wait and see_.

When she continued to say nothing, he took a step forward. He touched the crown of her head, down to her shoulder, and the bent elbow doing everything to try and hide from him. She didn't move. It had been such a long time that she'd been touched without some stupid werewolf magic inspiring her to try and jump him, she forgot what it was like to just be touched.

She tried not to lean away from the caresses when they were gentle, but she couldn't help it.

"You're hungry," he murmured. He stepped away, reappearing with a plate piled high with food. He put his own next to her and sat, a hand resting over her knee. "Eat. Do you want a drink?"

"No, Alpha."

"Something to take the edge off?"

"No thank you, Alpha." She didn't want to let go of herself to eat. Ordinarily, she might've done something stupid, like put her mouth down to the food and eat like a cat. But as she didn't want to make a scene, she timidly released her crotch and went for the fork. Her hand almost didn't make the distance, darting back quickly to cover herself, before she forced it to close around the utensil.

"I'll get you some clothes," he said, distracted. He got up from his chair abruptly and the stool hit the floor.

"No, Alpha," she said, and then put the lettuce in her mouth. She chewed, and chewed, but it was like cardboard to her. Thankfully her stomach never got the memo to reject it.

"I can't have this," he told her. He stood behind her, arms going around her waist. She immediately put her hand back over her crotch, but he was holding her bare sides, his hands hot. "Come now. Let me get you some clothes of mine to wear."

"No, thankyou, Alpha," she said, her entire body tense. She tried to tuck her arms in to minimize how much he was touching her. "This is what you wanted."

"I did and I regret it," he said, voice rough. He stroked her ribs, and bent to kiss her shoulder, leaving his mouth against her skin while he spoke. "You can't even eat properly."

"I'll eat," she said faintly.

"You can't stay like this all night, you'll freeze."

"I won't," she said. She swallowed. "I'll be in the den, with you, Alpha. That's what you wanted."

He pressed the long line of his body up behind her, and tightened his arms. His chin rested over the rise of her shoulder, breath steaming as it washed over her skin. He stayed cupped against her like that for a while, rubbing his cheek against the sensitive side of her throat.

"Eat something," he murmured.

She would not let go of her crotch while he was so all over her. She hesitated a second, aboriting the initial movement to release her chest. On the second try, she managed to pick up her fork and spear a wedge of tomato.

He watched her eat like that for ages. Every single mouthful. He didn't say anything or change the tight grip on her, and after a while she saw that his sweat was starting to steam where he was touching her.

She didn't feel cold. She didn't feel warm, either. She stomached as much as she could and then set the fork down, putting her hand down on her lap. There wasn't much point in covering up again. He'd seen her boobs as much as he liked.

"Are you full?" he asked, rubbing her sides. "Do you want anything else?"

"No, thank you Alpha."

He released a breath.

"Are you tired, sweetheart?"

Her exhaustion wasn't physical, as far as she knew.

"If you take me to the den," she said slowly. "I'll sleep by your side, Alpha."

"You don't have to call me that," he informed her softly. He ran his knuckles under her chin, trying to tip her face to his. She only moved the slightest bit, but he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheekbone regardless. "I can feel how much you hate it."

She swallowed.

"You haven't eaten anything, Alpha," she told him blandly.

He keened, high in the back of his throat, attempting to hide his face behind her ear. He folded his arms around her chest and brought her shoulders to rest on him, holding her firmly.

"Caroline," he said, and ran his thumbs over her skin. "I've wounded you. Tell me what I can do to fix it, and I will. I'll fix this for you now. Do you want to call your mother?"

"No, thank you, Alpha," she replied.

He didn't like that.

She lurched as the chair spun, arms flinging out to make sure she didn't fall. He took her hands and put them around the back of his neck, putting himself bodily between her knees to haul her closer.

"Do you want your own room?" he said desperately. "I'll leave you be, if you ask me."

"No, thank you, Alpha."

"Nonsense. You've only ever asked for 'me time'," he quipped. He swallowed. "I'll leave you be, in your room. Ask me."

"I don't want you to need me after," she said, staring at his throat. "So no thank you, Alpha."

"_Caroline_," he fretted. He tried to crowd closer to her but she squeaked, raising her legs to shut her knees in front of him and bar him getting anywhere near her. "Sorry, love, I'm sorry. I won't hurt you. It's alright. What can I do?"

She took her arms from around him and gaurded her crotch and breasts once more, staring at his chest.

"When you finish eating," she told his chest. "I'd like the den."

He made a distressed _wuff _noise, his hands twitching. He was so close to her, but he didn't touch her again.

"I can't eat when you smell like this," he muttered. His hands traced the outline of her from three inches above where she was. "I could fix it, if you told me what might make you happy, sweetheart. Anything. Name it. Do you want a phone of your own? A car? Shall I book us a private jet? I could take you to Milan, hm? Rome? Tokyo? You could call your mother. Long as you like."

Wow. This whole Alpha thing was like... majorly affecting him.

She shook her head.

"I don't want to call anyone," she told him quietly. "I don't want to go anywhere."

"Anyone?" he pressed. "There's no one? Isn't there a friend beyond the wall who-?"

"I'm not calling anyone," she said, more sternly. "To give you more string to pull to hurt me with later."

"I won't. I swear. If it'll make you smile," he promised. He tried to urge her face up with his hands, but she wrenched away, looking determinedly to the left hand side. "Look at me. Tell me what I can do."

"You could take me to the den," she decided to tell him, just to give him something to do rather than ask her a question she wouldn't answer.

He obiliged, delicately lifting her from the stool. His dinner was left cooling and forgotten on the island bench, but he didn't look back. He strode to the den and let her sink into the very middle of it, quick to pull a blanket over her nakedness, tucking in one side.

He hovered at the other, staring at her face.

But she assumed the position of corpse, and didn't move.

"Caroline, love," he said. His hands were twisting together. "I don't want you to be like this."

_Yes you do_, was the very simple thought in her mind. As he hadn't asked her a question, or given her an instruction, she wouldn't speak or move. She just stared past him at the glass dome, barred with slatted shutters.

"Hang on," he muttered, and zoomed away. He was gone maybe ten seconds, maybe less, before he knelt by her side with a fistful of fabric. "Here. I have clothes. I have things that you can be comfortable in."

"No thank you, Alpha."

A panicky breath sucked back in his throat. It was the most disconcerting thing she'd ever heard.

"I want you to get dressed," he stressed. "You'll feel better for being dressed, won't you?"

"No, thank you, Alpha."

"I'll do it." Reaching under her neck to haul her up made her shoulders seize, lax hands already curling around the covers he'd protected her with. He cupped the bite mark on her nape and leaned on the other arm, lashes fluttering as he studied every inch of her face. "Sit up, sweetheart, put on the shirt. It won't take a minute, and I'll shut my eyes, if you like."

"My will is yours," she repeated.

"You've your own will," he promised her.

"If that is what my Alpha wants." Her throat felt thick and her forearms were starting to burn with how tightly she was clutching the covers. "I am doing what I want, which is to serve you, and make you happy."

"It'd make me happy to see you clothed, and comfortable, and no longer freezing."

"Alpha, you gave me instruction to be naked, and you showed me Marcel as a dead man to keep me in my place. This is what you wanted. My will is yours, and my body-" A quick sob broke the otherwise monotonous tone of her voice. When she kept talking, her voice was strained and increasing pace. "-My b-body is yours, and my thoughts, all my thoughts are yours-"

"I want you to be dressed. Sit up."

A warm hand did lift her into sitting, but she locked her arms to her chest and held the blankets there. A distressed noise pulled out of her throat and she shut her eyes, losing the battle with tears, for a moment.

Klaus nuzzled into the crook of her neck, smooshing his face in the non-existent place between her chin an shoulder, forcing his way to press desperate, damp kisses to her cheek. His arms wrapped around her and he steered her face to his chest, settling his face on the top of her head. She went where she was put, and didn't move an inch.

"This isn't what I want," he said vehemently. "I've fouled it up. My temper, Caroline. I should know better. I should. I don't want this for us. I don't want you to be scared of me."

"I am not scared of my Alpha." She shook. "I th-think you're per-prefect."

"Don't."

She didn't want to.

"My Alpha is so strong," she said, and shut her eyes tight. "And so good to me, you're so good to me, Alpha, you al-always know what to do."

"Caroline," he said wetly. "Don't lie. I'm a monster. I know. I know it. Please, love, stop talking. Just stop talking. You're so cold, sweetheart."

Though she tried to keep going, he unearthed a desperately clutching hand and put it over her mouth. He couldn't possibly miss the shaking, or the uneven, jerky breaths she was pulling in and out of her nose. He kissed her head, her available ear, and her brow, tilting her up to lay gentle, trembling kisses on her nose, eyes, cheeks and unresponsive lips.

"I wish you would just hurt me," he confessed into the cavern of her mouth.

_Don't worry_, she thought, keeping her eyes shut. _I will_.

* * *

* * *

Sleep did not take her. The moon moved slowly across the sky, and Caroline watched it. Klaus moved once or twice to get close to her, and she didn't flinch.

As dawn broke, he pressed himself against her and started to thicken. She waited until he was rutting at full mast before she calmly folded herself into sitting, detangling without any struggle from him, and pulled a blanket around her as she stood.

Very calmly, she left the sleeping werewolf in his den, none the wiser to her absence.

She half expected him to rip the back of her throat out as she climbed the stairs, but her ears were trained on the silence coming from the den. She shut the door to the bedroom behind her, waiting for a long minute to see if he would follow.

When silence and stillness met each of her senses, she turned toward the bed and sank into it gratefully.

But still couldn't sleep for fear of his retribution when he eventually woke.


	17. Freezing

Groggy, she watched the door from her reclined place on the bed. The book had been finished about an hour earlier, and was shut on the bedside table. It crossed her mind to get up and get another from Elijah's room, but she honestly couldn't be bothered getting out of bed.

There was little else to do, and no energy to do it.

"Alpha?" she called, her voice thick.

He made adequate levels of noise up the stairs, and opened the door - she looked at his face just long enough to see the mother of all frowns still impressed in his lips. He stood still, waiting for a long time; but she had once read that it was considered rude to speak first in an Alpha's presence, so she committed to waiting.

"Do you need something?" he murmured.

"Can I have breakfast?"

"You can come down as you like. I haven't banished you."

She was still naked under the blankets and wouldn't reveal herself unless he asked her to. The morning had been spent waiting for him to storm her safe haven and rip into her skin, so she still felt a little on edge for having him finally be there.

This apparently translated through his well-honed nose, because he said:

"I want you to get dressed before you come down. Use things from my closet."

"Yes, Alpha."

He shut the door before the last letter had been uttered. Before he was on the stairs, she was pulling open the door to go mindlessly to his master bedroom. She dressed blindly, barely distinguishing what item went on what body part. She had been trying to force her hand through a hoodie pocket.

Trailing down the stairs, she hugged her middle and padded quietly into the kitchen to take a seat at the island. He'd left her a fresh cup of coffee and two pieces of buttered toast.

"Eat," he said under his breath. "Then we can talk."

"Yes, Alpha."

She crunched her toast and sipped her coffee in small doses. There wasn't a lot she could do to speed up the process. She didn't want to tempt her churning gut and see if she'd be throwing it up.

When she was done, he took the stool and turned her around to face him. His hands clutched at hers and he dragged the pads of his thumbs over the soft insides of her wrists.

"I think it might be best if you had a chat with Camille," he told her forehead. She wouldn't lift her gaze to his face. "Do you want to talk to her?"

"What do you want, Alpha?"

He tightened his grip on her hands.

"I want this ungodly chill to be chased from your skin." He pulled her hands onto his lap, folding her palms to the thick curve of his thigh. He planted a cupped hand on top of both, and tried to trap warmth in her. "I think you should at least try speaking with her."

"Of course," she told him.

"You will?" he muttered. "You'll speak to her?"

"Yes, Alpha. You think it's best. My will is yours."

He audibly ground his teeth, the heat under his skin flaring white hot. He whipped out his phone - she didn't even try to look for his passcode. It didn't matter. She wasn't interested in using the phone any more. She saw him send a text and then put the phone face up on the island by her elbow.

"You can take as much time with her as you like," he said slowly. "I'll need to be in the house, but I won't listen."

"Yes Alpha."

The buzz made the phone shake a few inches to the left. The message simply read: OMW.

"There. You see? It won't be long, and then we'll have this sorted." He tapped in a reply that told Cami the door was open.

Which wasn't a shock, because the bloody thing was always open.

Time passed funnily, while he was silent as she was, trying to rub her hands into something more pleasing to his senses.

"Hey, Caroline," Camille said, her pleasant voice filling her head.

"Hello Camille," Caroline said, but didn't turn to face her.

"Hi, Klaus."

"Cami," he said in greeting. He pressed his mouth to the insides of her wrists. "I'll be near. I won't listen."

"You can do what you like," Caroline told him pointedly. "You're the Alpha. My words are yours."

A pause. The heat went with him.

"Klaus said he'd been cruel," Cami said evenly. "He told me he'd lost his temper. He didn't tell me what it was, or what it did to you. So let's start with: how are you?"

"I'm well thank you Camille," Caroline said politely.

"Well?" Cami repeated. Caroline didn't bother repeating herself. "You don't look well to me. Your eyes are bloodshot and you haven't looked at me yet."

"I don't want to upset the Alpha," was her cool response.

A pause.

"Why would looking at me upset Klaus?"

Caroline shrugged. It just seemed like the sort of thing that might upset him.

"How are you, Camille?" Because that was manners, and she hadn't been raised a heathen.

"I'm alright. I had a good day yesterday. I got some gardening done, and my new bird box got delivered a few days earlier than I expected. How about you?"

Caroline twisted all her fingers together.

"My Alpha gave me a very important lesson about fear," she said.

"So it wasn't a good day?"

"All days with my Alpha are perfect," Caroline intoned. "He is a perfect Alpha who always knows what's best for me."

"Right." Camille took the seat that Klaus had previously occupied. "So to be honest, Caroline, you don't look happy, and I'm worried. What did Klaus do that was an important lesson in fear?"

"It doesn't matter. I learned it."

Quick as a whip, the the vampire replied: "What was the lesson about?"

But Caroline was only quiet, not stupid. Just as quickly, she shot back:

"Obey or suffer."

Camille inhaled deeply, but didn't release it, her nimble hands smoothing over her jean-clad thighs to rest over the caps of her knees. She leaned forward, the stare of her drilling into the center of Caroline's forehead. 

"Do you feel like you're suffering?"

The human shrugged.

"I don't feel like I'm suffering right now."

"You don't look like you're enjoying yourself, either," Camille pointed out. "How are you feeling?"

"Obedient," was her honest retort. Caroline focused on the ties in her borrowed hoodie, only mildly irked by the mismatched lengths of each cord. Instead of fixing them, she just stared, effectively bowing her entire head and hiding her face.

"Were you feeling like that yesterday?" Camille asked quietly. "Obedient?"

"No."

"I don't think it's a state you are familiar with."

"I don't usually break rules," Caroline grumbled in her own defense. Obviously, drinking under age, sneaking out at night and texting Tyler until all hours of the morning were bending the rules; she made good grades and ran her school and household with an iron fist. She considered that breaking even.

"Has Klaus given you rules?"

"Don't run," Caroline intoned. She swallowed, feeling the spittle slide thickly down her throat. She was actually kinda hungry.

"Is that the only one, or is there more?" Camille prompted.

Silence.

What did it matter? Why was she even bothering to talk to the bitch? What could possibly come of it?

Isn't this behavior what he wanted? Didn't he want her at his beck and call? Why did he summon a shrink to talk to her, when she was finally doing everything he said?

"Why are you here?" she mumbled.

"Because Klaus called me last night. He's very worried about you," Camille told her in a very even way. "He said that he'd treated you very badly and that you had reacted in a certain way that makes me think that you're in shock."

That meant nothing. He wasn't worried - whatever he was, why would it worry him that she was quiet, and doing as he ordered her to? What would be the point in undoing her mindlessness, when it would only earn the both of them stress?

"Caroline?" The tone of Camille's voice made Caroline think that it wasn't the first time she had said her name. "What are you thinking?"

"Waste of time," she mumbled, and wrapped her arms around her middle, staring resolutely at the long gold chain hanging from Cami's neck. It was simple and dainty, glimmering in the kitchen light.

"What is wasting time?"

"Doesn't matter. Alpha told me to talk to you."

"Would you prefer it if I left?"

"Alpha wants me to talk to you," she repeated dully. "So I'll talk. What was the question?"

"I just asked what you were thinking, but you can tell me that you don't want to share," Camille suggested. "Between you and I, everything we discuss is entirely up to you. If you are uncomfortable, upset or just aren't in the mood, you are completely free to tell me."

"Alpha wants me to talk." Maybe if she said it enough, the vampire would get it. Glancing at the other woman's pretty face, Caroline flinched to see her inquisitive eyes focused on her own. If she was being difficult, would Cami just steal the thoughts out of her head?

Several long seconds ticked by, in which Caroline could nearly see the cogs turning in the psych's head. As each gear chugged along and slotted into place, she felt her shoulders begin to tense. Was she in any state to square off at a vampire in a game of words?

"Do you want to tell me how you felt yesterday?" Cami said kindly. "Before the event that made you so upset?"

"I was scared."

Being in the same room as another blonde woman made Caroline painfully aware that her hair had not been washed in so long. It was dull and brownish in some streaks from oil and dirt she'd picked up in the run, for god's sake.

"Why were you scared?" Cami inquired.

"I'm always scared," she murmured. Her heart kicked.

"Right now? With me?" At Caroline's nod, she exhaled a sad little breath. "Is it anything I'm doing?"

Nodding, Caroline cut her eyes to the floor on her right, looking at the dust particles floating against the bright streaks of sun that were flooding from beyond the canopy. It was so much safer than being tempted to look at the person she was speaking to.

"Can you tell me what I'm doing that's making you uncomfortable?" Cami suggested kindly. "So I can change it? I don't want you to be scared."

"Can't." How many specks of dust even were there? Why were there so many?

"What can't?" Camille linked her fingers in a single fist and let them hang between her legs, elbows braced on her thighs. Trying to engage her, probably. Trying to seem less threatening, like maybe her body language would make her forget the fact that the bitch was inhuman.

"I can't ask you to change what's making me scared," Caroline said, a little lower. "Alpha wants me to talk, so I'll talk."

"We can stop at any time," Cami tried to soothe, but Caroline was already shaking her head. "You are not obligated to speak to me, Caroline. I only wanted to help. Do you want to take some time now and have a break?"

"Alpha wants me to talk."

"Don't worry about Klaus right now. It's just you and me. Anything you say to me is confidential, and I would never betray anything you said. Is there anything I can help you with now? Can I get anything for you to make you more comfortable?"

Maybe a rope with a noose already tied into it?

"No thank you, Camille. My Alpha will provide me with anything I ask for. He is a perfect Alpha."

That goddamn ticking clock was so _fucking_ loud. Her head throbbed to the beat of it, eyes following the long steel colored curtain to the timepiece on the wall. Each tick was supposed to measure a second, but the quiet moments in the kitchen felt much, much longer.

"What are you feeling right now?" Camille said calmly. Changing tack. Apparently she hadn't liked the talk of Klaus being perfect.

How interesting.

Another ally?

"Numb." Carefully, artificially, numb. A mechanism that would keep her safe. It had to. Nothing else worked - not hysterics, not suicide, not rage, not plying him with touch. So maybe if she was nothing, he'd get bored, right? Like, surely he'd behead a robot?

"Do you think that's healthy?" Camille asked, easing back in her chair.

"It's healthy."

The vampire mirrored Caroline's crossed arms and tilted head. Did she think Caroline wasn't aware that was an old psych trick? She wasn't a total idiot, thank you - she had been in therapy since her dad left, and had been devouring techniques on the internet to weasel the truth out of people for as long as she'd had a laptop.

"Why do you think that numb is healthy?"

"Because if I act how I feel, I will upset the Alpha," she replied. Blinking, her dry eyes crackled against the rasp of her lids. She hadn't blinked in... a while. But she wasn't sure why. "I don't want to upset the Alpha or I will suffer. He made his lesson very clear that he could be evil if I was going to treat him like he was evil. So maybe if I treat him like the best Alpha in the world, he'll have to act like it."

"That does make a little sense," Cami mentioned. "Do you want to feel something other than numb, Caroline?"

"No," she said, a touch nervously. "No, thank you. I've had enough of the other feelings."

"What are the other feelings?"

"All of them," Caroline managed to get out.

There was no way to explain that all of her emotions made her:

1) Sick

2) On-and-off kinda want to die 

3) Fuck her captor

4) Wonder if she was going actually insane for wanting to play nice

5) Set the house on fire and play in the ashes.

If she said that, Klaus would undoubtedly hear, and then she'd never be left alone. And being alone was really the only thing she had going, so she rounded all those emotions under one umbrella, and said nothing.

"So you're going to try and treat him like you think he wants to be treated," Cami estimated. "But why are you doing that?"

"I don't want to suffer any more."

"Do you think it's working?"

"I think the Alpha likes it."

"What would happen if I told you he doesn't?"

"Nothing new." Caroline hitched one shoulder in a shrug. "He doesn't like anything I do. This is just safer for me."

"Maybe," Cami said thoughtfully, recrossing her legs to make up for the deficit of noise. "What if I told you he was only going to get clingier?"

"I would have to let it happen."

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. What part of 'giving up' did the vampire not get? Like, honestly. How long could Cami last, if they switched? If she had been stolen, would she have played games, or folded like a wet sheet of paper?

"Would that make you feel better if you were closer to Klaus?"

It was bait. Caroline didn't care because she couldn't afford to.

"I will do what my Alpha wants. He's the Alpha. My will is his."

"Your will is your own," Camille told her firmly, a flash of anger rising in the air between them.

"No it isn't. My will and body belong to the Alpha," Caroline corrected, like this was a very simple fact of life. "Everything I am is his. If the Alpha gives me instructions, I will follow them. He wants me to talk to you so I'll talk. He wants me naked so I'll stay naked. When he puts food in front of me I'll eat. I'll sleep in the den exactly where he puts me. I'll open my mouth and suck his knot when he tells me to, and I'll swallow when he comes."

If her hands had not been buried underneath her armpits, surely Camille would see the tremble in each finger. Her shoulders were very tight and her eyes dragged from the wall to the doorway, half expecting to see the hybrid emerge. It just seemed like the exact time he'd decide to show up, but alas.

Empty door frame.

A little urgently, Camille said:

"Has Klaus ever asked you to do those things?"

Why did it matter? Did Camille think she could stop it if he was?

"He's told me to do some."

"Has he told you to engage in sexual situations with him? Things that you don't want to do?" Heat that smelled fragrantly of fury pulsed between them. It had struck a chord in the other woman, the thought of her being abused sexually.

But what about all the other ways she was being abused?

"It doesn't matter," Caroline said, because it didn't. But also, she was not an idiot - she was putting him in a really bad light on purpose. She technically wasn't lying, but leaving the truth omitted. "I won't ever want tell him no again."

Camille took a second to process that.

"Caroline," she said in a low, firm voice. "Could you tell me what he did to you yesterday?"

"Alpha taught me a lesson."

"What was in the lesson?"

"Blood."

Camille started to bop her foot to the beat of the ticking clock. It was so oppressively loud. God. Was it new? Why had she never heard it before? What the hell manufacturer made a clock that obnoxious?

"Did he drink from you?"

"No."

A beat.

"Did he hit you?"

"I wish he did."

One eyebrow shot up on Camille's pretty face, and Caroline didn't even have to double check it with her eyes to see.

"What he did to you worse than being hit?"

"Yes."

The bopping of the psych's foot outpaced the clock, now. More agitated. More fury singed the insides of Caroline's nose, burning like a curry, or sulfur. That was directly contrasted by the very, very pleasant way she asked:

"Why was it worse than being hit?"

"I know what to do when I'm hit."

The bopping was two beats to the one of the clock. Bop-bop, bop-bop, bop-bop, like a heart. A heart that kept increasing in rhythm. But why?

Why bother caring _now_? And about just this one portion of her horrific stay?

Camille had known about her for days and _now_ she seemed to be worried? Like, where exactly was she being unclear about the whole '_get me out of here, I want to go home_' thing? Or when she'd straight up stabbed the vampire and made a run for it?

Because Marcel treated her like a darling little sister, and Isaac was super convinced that they were gonna be endgame. Did these people just not understand how reluctant she was to participate in the whole shebang? Was she somehow acting hard to get, or...?

"What do you do when you get hit, Caroline?"

"I cry and feel angry."

"Does Klaus hit you?"

What the _fuck_ did it _matter_?

"He hasn't hit me yet. He's done other things."

"What other things?"

"Things that make me cry and feel angry."

Cami refolded her arms. She was striving to be still; maybe to a lesser human, she would've passed as calm. But the little ticks in conjunction with the pulse of rage wafting around her like a cloud... Caroline wasn't sure how she knew that Camille was furious, but she did. It was a distinct scent.

"Has Klaus hurt your physical body?"

"Yes." She didn't elaborate. Firstly because it was more dramatic that way. Secondly, because there were numerous ways he had hurt her, but his elixir blood had healed it all. Thirdly, the amount of times Klaus had hurt her were many, and thinking about them wouldn't help her.

"Caroline, has Klaus put you in a sexual position that you didn't want to be in?"

"He is my Alpha," Caroline replied. "My will is his."

"Your will is your own," Camille repeated. "If you want to tell him no, you can."

"I won't ever tell him no again."

The other eyebrow rose. The surprise was not a good look.

"Do you think it's a good idea to let him do whatever he wants?"

"He's my Alpha," Caroline pointed out.

"That doesn't give him a free pass at you, or poor behavior." She shifted in her seat. "Caroline, can you tell me what happened yesterday?"

"I was taught a lesson in fear."

Had they not already gone over this?

Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry. Would Klaus come up when it was time for lunch? She didn't want to get anything out of the kitchen without him being there to witness and give permission. The way her luck was going, she would pick some ungodly expensive and rare thing and ruin his collection of cheeses, or something.

"And there was blood?" Camille pressed. Caroline nodded. "Was it your blood?"

"No."

"Was it his blood?"

"No."

"Who's blood was it?"

"It doesn't matter, because it won't happen again. I'll do what he wants, now."

"In this 'lesson' you had to learn about fear," Camille went on. "Did you feel like your life was in danger?"

"No." She'd been mostly convinced that she'd have to murder someone, though, and that made her revisit some of those earlier thoughts about killing herself. Now she had become aware of her pride and how deep those roots ran, how could she ever look her mother or friends in the eye?

Who would ever want to be around the girl who would kill a man to spare asking a favor?

"Caroline? Hey, are you still with me?"

Blinking heavy lids over crusty eyes, Caroline realized that she had zoned out for some length of time. She hadn't heard a single word, but felt the presence of it trembling around her ears. Wherever she had gone inside her head had been quick and deep - she felt her brain struggle like a little car going up a very steep hill.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Refocusing on the window in the kitchen allowed her a view of a pretty tree. "What did you say?"

"Are you alright?" Cami asked, genuine concern making her voice heavy.

"I'm fine." She was not.

"Is it something I said, or something you thought, that made you disassociate?"

Honestly? Could've been the mere thought of food. A long hot shower. Washing her hair twice, and getting it blown out. Painting her nails bubblegum pink, and spritzing her favorite floral perfume. She thought of Bonnie. She thought of her mom. She thought of home.

"Caroline?"

A thick wad of emotion was strangling her words. It didn't want to be swallowed without a fight, but she couldn't speak until it was gone. Flattening her hand against the column of her throat, she struggled to make the rush of emotions go away.

It didn't help to cry.

It only upset the Alpha.

"Sorry," she said, husky and low.

"It's okay," Cami said gently. "I'm just worried."

"I'm fine."

"You aren't, and that's okay," Camille offered. "You're under a lot of stress, and you can feel anything you want about this situation. Do you want to stop talking to me now?"

If she had the energy, Caroline'd summon one of her bitchiest eye-rolls from the back of her eyelids, honed in the throes of a cheer leading clique. As it stood, there was barely enough energy left in her to keep her mouth doing the words thing.

"Alpha wants me to talk," she reminded her in a grumble, looking at a spot on the otherwise gleaming floor.

"Klaus will get used to not getting everything he snaps his fingers for. Any time you want us to stop, you just tell me," Cami offered. "I don't need to push you. You're having a bad day."

That heeded no comment from Caroline, 'cause it was the single dumbest thing that Camille had ever said. No _shit_ was she having a bad day. She was having a bad fucking _life_.

"Can you tell me what you were feeling during the 'lesson' yesterday?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it matters," Camille said wisely. "It matters to me, and it must have mattered to you, because you've had a really huge shift in personality because of it. Can you tell me what you were feeling during the lesson, or should I stop asking?"

It just didn't - fucking - matter.

"I was scared."

"What made you scared?"

"Alpha."

A beat.

"Do you still feel scared, under the numb you're feeling now?"

Instead of using words, Caroline just nodded once.

"Hm." Camille inhaled and held it for three long seconds. "Do you think that Klaus will hurt you if you continued with your previous behavior? Acting the way you want to act?"

"He did," she said mildly. "He did hurt me. He did it on purpose. He knew it would scare me. He wanted me to be scared. He told me he wanted me to be scared."

"Did he say what exactly the lesson was for?"

"Thinking about running," Caroline intoned. It was like.. there were so many emotions inside her chest. But they seemed to cancel each other out - some kind of short circuit from her brain, was the best guess she had. Heaven forbid any number of them got to the head of the pack, because nothing inside her was good. Which was why numb was so much safer than normal.

"Okay, I'm going to guess something, and you can tell me if it's wrong. Did Klaus use some kind of magic vampire voodoo?" Camille wiggled her fingers as if a nefarious old witch casting an old timey spell.

"Magic," she agreed.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Okay," the psych said thoughtfully. "Do you know if it was witchcraft or compulsion?"

"Witchcraft. But I'm scared of compulsion."

"Ah, okay, I understand that's why you aren't looking at me today." No douy. How long had Cami been a vampire? Klaus had said she was new, but like - did she really not remember what it was like to be prey to an apex predator who could mind control as they liked? "Is the reason you can't look at me because you're scared I'll manipulate your mind?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Thank you for being honest." The psych bobbed her foot a little, her energy returning. "Is there anything I can do you help you feel a little better today?"

"I don't want to feel anything, thank you, Camille," she said. "I don't want to feel anything, because I don't want to suffer any more. Are we nearly done, now? My Alpha doesn't like to be away from me too long."

"I can stay as long as you want me to stay, or we can stop at any time, Caroline. You just say the word. If you wanted me to move in upstairs, I could do that too, and that way I could act as a medium between you two."

"No thank you, Camille."

"No?" she thought for a moment. "I could stay one or two nights and we could test it out?"

"I don't want to make friends here," Caroline admitted.

"Do you think that making friends here would betray the ones you left behind the wall?"

"No," she said honestly. Her head was like... cotton wool. Her eyes felt scratchy. The tick-tick-tick of the clock was making her blood pulse like a drum. "I just don't want to like people here, because if Alpha wants to scare me he'll hurt them."

"Did he tell you that?"

"No." She unlinked her fingers from under her arms and looked at her damp palms, staring into the spaces between the digits. God she was so _grubby_. "But that's what he'll do. He used methods like that before, when vampires weren't known. I studied it."

"When he was in war, and politics, Klaus is known for the awful things he's capable of," Camille agreed. "There are lots of interesting books about his behavior, and how he navigated certain societies. Maybe you should ask him how much of what you've read is real."

"No," Caroline said. "I don't want to ask questions."

"Why?"

"Asking questions will get me bit," she said, sure-fire. "He'll hurt me if I tell him no, or if I make him mad, and anytime I ask too many questions he gets mad. I don't want to ask questions anymore. It doesn't matter. Are we done now? You're going to make him want to touch me."

"He can, and he will, keep his hands to himself," Camille told her firmly. "Do you want me to talk to him about touching you?"

"No," Caroline said, actually feeling a bright burst of fear at the thought. "Don't."

If Camille made Klaus keep his hands to himself, who knew how far he'd go with reclaiming that touch? One day had made him rock hard and grabby when they had been new to each other. Now she was in a bad mood with him, and he was already touchy? Yeesh.

"I won't," Camille agreed. "But what I will do is ask you to set some verbal boundaries with him. Where can he touch you that is comfortable for you?"

"He can touch me wherever he likes," Caroline choked out. "He's my Alpha - he has to. He wants to touch me. I have to let him. If I don't let him he'll get angry. He'll bite me. You can't tell him no."

"Okay, okay," Camille soothed, lifting hands at her. "Take a breath. I'm not going to talk to him about touching you."

"If you tell him _no_-" Caroline went on, reaching up to grab her head. _Tick. Tick. Tick_. That fucking clock! "You'll make him - he'll be angry. He's going to bite me. You're going to make him bite me."

"I won't say anything," Camille said coolly. "Caroline, he won't bite you. I won't speak to him about that. It's alright."

"You're going to make him bite me. He told me he wouldn't. He will. He wants me to want him."

"He does," Camille confirmed. "But that doesn't mean he gets to have you."

Caroline took a breath, and unclenched her head from between her clawed hands.

Blessed silence filled her skull while her every thought screeched to a halt. She studied Camille's face, searching for a lie. All she found was surprise.

"_What_ did you just say?" she demanded in a hiss.

"Klaus does want you to want him," Cami repeated, furrowing her brow. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

"I asked," she said. "He won't answer. He doesn't want to tell me."

"Should I talk to him about that?" Camille suggested. "What he actually wants from you?"

"No," Caroline told her. She had, by that point, had enough. It was barely twenty minutes in, but it had been more than enough. "I - I want you to go now. I'm tired. I want to stop talking."

"I can go," Camille offered. "But I don't think you feel any better about things. We haven't even discussed-"

"Alpha," Caroline said. When he didn't immediately appear at her side, she got out of the stool, wrapping arms around herself. "_Alpha!_"

He blurred in, and she reached for his bicep with both hands, making a show of clinging to him. Though her palms only embraced the fabric of his shirt, she felt drawn to putting her face against him too, rubbing her cheek to his arm.

"Alpha, I want her to go now," she said loudly. "I don't want to talk to her anymore, please."

"Get out," he said.

"I was going," Camille muttered. "We need to talk, Klaus. In private."

Caroline shot her a wide-eyed stare, then hurriedly ducked her gaze to the leather bands around Klaus' throat. Her hands pulled his arm around her shoulders, and he obliged with a deep exhale, butting his nose against the top of her head.

"What's the matter, love?" he murmured.

She shook her head. She didn't want him to talk to Camille. She didn't trust her to keep her mouth shut.

"We do need to talk," Camille insisted. "I'll call on loudspeaker so Caroline can hear what I'm saying. She's having some stress related to what she thinks I might tell you, and what you might do to her when I do." Her tone was absolutely not to be challenged. She was like a mother, stern and scolding.

Caroline hugged Klaus' arm tighter to her chest and tucked herself under his chin, which he gave in to languidly. He threw such a new heat it was a wonder she didn't break into a sweat.

"You're still so cold," he said softly. He looked at Camille. "She's still freezing me out?"

"That's not my fault," Camille reminded him. "I'm a therapist, not a miracle worker. I'm not working at deconstructing the one thing she was put through yesterday - she might've responded like this tomorrow, or in week. The last few days have been exhausting for her. Think about it. Everything from being abducted from her room until right now, that's all happened to a seventeen year old. A baby. There's an entire teenager who has learned the worst of every situation and is waiting for them to happen to her. Of course she's freezing you out, Klaus. She's trying to stay sane."

Whatever Klaus had meant to snap by the sharp pop of his opening mouth would remain unknown to Caroline, because she blurted:

"Please make her leave now."

Caroline had her eyes shut and face smushed against his arm, unwilling to unlock for even the smallest moment. Once there were no more words and the front door was shut, he put his free hand over the bite mark on the back of her neck and pressed his lips to her temple, the roll of his breath gentle against her face.

"Did you sleep at all, last night?" he wondered.

She shook her head.

"Will you sleep if I put you in the den?"

"Whatever you want, Alpha," she said hoarsely.

"Alright, love. We've got no where to go and no time to keep but our own. We will spend the day as we should've yesterday," he told her warmly. "On a bed, with booze and movies. If you have a drink of choice, tell me now."

She really, really wanted to glare at him - but that would be too much like looking at him. She aimed her death stare at the ground. She didn't want to be romanced, for fuck's sake.

"Whatever you want," she said.

"Bourbon it is." 


	18. Anything

Her brain was whirling so rapidly she couldn't focus on the movie she'd agreed to watching.

"Alpha," she said mildly. Because she wasn't looking at him, she had to settle for listening to the quick shift of his neck against the cords of leather he wore. It was maybe a touch too fast to be considered casual. "Can I ask you something about... wolfy-ness?"

"Course, love," he said softly. He made an aborted movement to touch her face, directing his hand to the back of the couch instead. "Whatever you like."

"When you touched me yesterday, you were cold," she muttered. "But you're... really warm now?"

"I'm warm to you now because I want to invite you to be near to me. Yesterday, I was in no mood to be touched," he explained. "And I wanted you to be frightened, not comforted."

She watched as his twitchy hand lifted from the couch and gently closed over the back of hers. Staring thoughtfully at his hand, so innocent, she wondered how many people he'd killed with it.

"So the temperature is a gauge of -...?" She took a second to sift through an appropriate word. "Your intention toward the pack?"

"More or less," he agreed. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb - even though his touch was barely a brush, it left a streak of white as though he'd pushed really hard. When she turned her hand palm up and touched the side of his forefinger, it burst with red.

"Am I cold to you right now, Alpha?"

He curled his fingers in between hers and made a singular fist of their hands.

"Yes."

"I don't feel cold." It didn't seem right, but she could literally see all the veins through her translucent skin, mottled like bruising. She'd only seen her hands look like that when she was gloveless in the snow.

"You're ice," he confirmed. "I can barely touch you."

"Even though you want to?" She frowned. "Why do I feel like this to you?"

"Likely because you didn't want to be touched."

"I don't understand, Alpha." _I never want you to touch me_, rung loudly in her ears.

"Yesterday, there was something in me that wanted to offer no comfort or safety in my embrace, as I usually want it," he told her. "I think I might have let you learn that you could make that go both ways."

"You said that I'd learn through the nearness of our _situation_."

"Yes," he said. "You're learning to manipulate the wolf in me by using the animal in you."

She looked at their hands. There was a slow pinking to her hand, starting from the nearest points of where she was touching him. A scant two seconds after she noticed, her palm started to tingle with a pleasant rush.

"I missed it," she decided. "The heat. When you were cold."

"We call it being frozen out," he mentioned. "It's something that wolves learn quite young. There's a phase where the little ones start to freeze their parents out that can be quite brutal, and dangerous."

"Why is it dangerous, Alpha?"

"Well if the little one remains cold for too long, they can become very sick," he told her solemnly.

"I'm still freezing you out?"

"You're a little frosty, yes."

"Will I get sick?"

"No, sweetheart, you won't be sick from freezing me out," he consoled her. "You're too old. It only happens to the little ones, unfortunately, when they're young and fragile."

"Oh." She put her free hand over his and removed it to see the bloom of red in the perfect shape of her hand. She traced her name in cursive with the tip of her finger. "Doesn't seem fair."

"It isn't. That isn't to say that it will pass without consequence, which is why I'm rather desperate to get you out of your state."

She rubbed her lips together.

"What's gonna happen if I don't come out of it?"

"The same thing that happens to humans when they sink into depression," he told her. "You'll be desperately sad and empty, and I will not be able to curb the urges that manifest to tend you then - which will make life difficult on the both of us, probably for a long time."

Of course.

"Did you think Camille would do it?" she murmured. "Get me out of it?"

"I thought she had a better chance than I did," he confessed. "I expected you to vent and come into yourself, or try and use her to make an attempt to run off."

"I don't want to do that right now," she told him. "I feel sick thinking about what you would do to me if I tried again."

He shifted nearer to her.

"I wouldn't hurt you," he promised.

_You'd bite me._

Her eyes were stuck to their hands, and the patterns she could etch into his skin with the lightest of touches. She feathered one finger around to his wrist, and touched his pulse point, feeling it beat rhythmically. She watched her nail slide up, under his sleeve.

"I didn't like it when you froze me out, Alpha."

"How kind. Are you saying that to woo me?" he said teasingly.

"No," she told him. "No thank you."

He took in a deep breath. The air fizzed with a sharp change in flavor - he went from passingly content to _pissed_ and then back down into concerned.

Her fingers flexed away, straightening out, and she turned her attention back to the screen. The pity was his hand weighed hers down, and no amount of subtle tugging was making him let her go. She tried to bend her elbow and take away her arm, but he moved closer, bringing her hand up onto his lap.

"What were you thinking about that made you ask about freezing?"

"Nothing important, Alpha," she said dully. She stopped struggling. She was too tired to struggle.

"Tell me," he said.

"It's not important, Alpha," she tried again.

"I think it is," he told her, almost earnest. "That you have any interest in your new instincts and how you can impact this house is very interesting to me. Tell me what you were thinking about, love. I want to know."

"Well," she said slowly. He did ask. He _said_ he wanted to know. He was the Alpha, after all, and she had to do what he said to keep him happy, right? "I just wondered if, when you rape me, who will feel like that all over. If I'll be icy like that, or if you will when you're inside me."

He flinched.

"Caroline," he said softly. "That isn't an eventuality. I couldn't ever hurt you like that."

"No," she said, muted. "You could just make me believe I was responsible for the death of an innocent man. Now I know I'm selfish, just like everyone told me I was, because I'd rather he died then tell you what you wanted to hear."

"You aren't selfish for wanting to live life your own way," he told her. "I think you're all the stronger for being able to make such a call. At your age, I couldn't have."

She looked at her hand, so pale next to his, but surely warming the longer she sat there and touched him. The smell of him seemed intent on making her feel better, but she needed to redirect the attention of how exactly he thought he was going to do that.

Knowing full well it would give his Alpha brain a nice stroke, she said: "I think I'm hungry."

"Of course," he said. "What would you like?"

"Something simple," she said. "I feel sick. I don't want anything dairy or with meat in it."

"Why are you sick?"

"Because," she said dully. "I'm wondering if I ask you to take my virginity, if you'll hurt me, even if I give it to you."

"I wouldn't hurt you."

"You already hurt me worse than I've ever been hurt," she admitted. "I just want you to get the rest over with, already."

"Not like this," he insisted. "I never wanted to hurt your body, love."

She stared blankly at their hands, then carefully extracted hers - surprised when he allowed it. Quickly hooking her thumbs in her borrowed sweatpants, there was not even a whole second before they were dragged to her knees. She kicked the long legs off onto the floor in a heap, now bare assed on the pull-out.

"You can do it now, if you want," she offered, trying to sound blase. "I won't fight you."

"No," he stressed. "No, this isn't supposed to happen this way."

"I can moan if you like."

"Caroline, love, no. This isn't about sex, sweetheart."

"Yeah it is," she murmured, unsure if that would be the thing that made him snap and rip her tongue out. It was an interesting game of roulette, trying to guess what she could do and what punishment she could earn. "I just want you to get it done. The waiting is worse. And then you can break the claim or kill me or whatever, and you won't have to deal with me anymore."

"That isn't what this is," he told her heatedly. "You're not here solely to be used, I swear. We're more than that, we're -"

"If you're going to kill me-"

"I don't want you dead. I want you here, with me." He cupped her face, trying to make her meet his gaze. "Caroline, look at me."

She reached for his zipper but he caught that wrist, and the other one, in his hands. He tried to kiss her palms but she pulled away, pulling at his shirt.

"Take off your clothes," she said thickly. "I'll suck you off."

"I don't want that any more than you do," he said, and held her hands to his chest. "Look at me?"

"That's what you want, Alpha. I'll make you feel better," she went on, voice startlingly bland, even to her own ears. Had she broken her feelings box? She couldn't tell. Numb was so safe. "You don't even have to look at my face, I'll hide it by looking down."

"Caroline, no. Stop, and look at me, love, look here." He cupped under her chin. "I don't want this. I don't want this for you. Look at my eyes, love. I'll prove it."

"You'll compel me," she said dully, still straining to get at his zipper. "I'm not stupid."

"You aren't usually," he agreed hurriedly.

"So just let me be what you want." She pushed his hand away and tried to bend her body to put her mouth over his crotch, but he caught her by the shoulders and put her at arm's length. She looked at the seam on his jeans and didn't struggle. "Do you want me to open my legs instead?"

"_No_." He held her knee shut when it tried to open.

Her hands drifted to his waist and he caught them in one of his, squeezing together against her meager struggle.

"I don't want to be scared anymore," she told him. "I don't like waiting. I want you to get what you want out of me so I can go."

Be it death or home was anyone's guess. But anywhere was better than with him - even the dungeon might've been nice, provided there were no mangled bodies in there.

He pulled her face up a little sharper than before. She focused on his lips, pulled into an awful frown. Her hands persistently tried to get his jeans off, until he tightened his grip.

"Stop," he instructed.

Her fingers, going purple, didn't. She stretched each one to the full extent, but no amount of wishful thinking made her fingertips edge closer and flip the button free.

"Just do it," she said. "Just use me, Alpha."

"I don't want to use you!" he hissed. "Stop it _now_!"

"Yes, Alpha."

She stopped everything. She looked only at his chin, obscured when he pressed her hands to his mouth in several small kisses.

"Caroline," he said urgently. "You're not here only for your sex. I won't hurt you, I swear. I don't _want_ to hurt you."

She took her face away from him and looked at the screen of the TV. Still had no idea what was playing. Her brain was too focused on things like the heat in his scalding hands, and the tingle of warmth bleeding back into her veins from the contact of his skin.

"Liar."

"I don't," he promised her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn't bow to it, stiff as a board. He pulled her closer to him, rubbing her arm. "Caroline, look at me, sweetheart. I don't want to-"

"You hurt me with the trick," she told the TV. "That was the worst thing anyone has ever done to me. You could fuck me until I bled to death, and I would still think that was worse."

"Stop. Look at me." He tried to steer her face toward him, but she wouldn't go, keeping her neck locked in place. "Caroline, look at me _please_, I'm not going to compel you to do anything."

"I don't want to look at you," she told the wall.

He keened, high and loud by her ear. He tried to kiss her shoulder, but she shrugged him away.

"Tell me how I can fix this," he said desperately. He tried to rub her back - she leaned away like he had beat her. He tried to touch her hair - she pulled it all out of his hands. "Caroline. Please talk to me, now."

It was a clever, cruel little game.

Alphas.

If she was going to win this game between them, she'd have to play his weaknesses - of which he had remarkably very few. He thought he was a tough guy, getting under her skin with the trick from Derick? Well.

Like Tanner said - she was smart. An Intellect. Now that the worst of the fear was gone beneath numb and mindlessness?

She could think.

Caroline Forbes was thinking she was going to get Klaus Mikealson to lower his guard and smash her proverbial fist into his metaphorical Alpha knot as hard as she could. Sensitive, he'd said it was?

Good. That meant he could be hurt.

"Please look at me," he said. "Won't you look at me? Look here, love, at my eyes? I swear I'm not going to compel you. I promise. What can I do? What can I do to fix this?"

"I don't know," she said. "You wanted me scared of you."

"I did," he agreed.

"And now I am," she said slowly. "And you want me to need you."

"I-" he stopped. Thought. "I need you to want me."

"Want your knot?" she corrected. "That's why I'm here, right?"

"It's not that-"

"Because you're lonely?" He sucked in a hard breath, his body going very rigid beside her. "You want to fix me so I want to touch you again, don't you?" she said, turning her face to look at him, only from the very corner of her eye.

"I want to make you feel better for the wounds I caused," he promised. "I'll do anything."

"Good," she said. "You can start with lunch, please Alpha."


	19. Undone

Ooh, she was getting to be _mad_ mad.

Every bite of food was watched with extreme scrutiny, from being pierced with a fork, through the air, then in her mouth. Klaus sat close enough by her that his knee wedged up against her hip, his hands hanging between his open legs, eyes tracking her chewing.

"Is it good?"

She nodded, because anything less and he wouldn't be satisfied, but anything more would make him think she was happy.

"It's not too spicy?"

Her stomach was not exactly on speaking terms with the rest of her body, so there was an awful yawning queasiness that was stirred up by the slight spices she usually relished.

"It's Pad Thai," she mumbled. "It's not spicy, Alpha."

"Good." He put one of those loosely handing hands cautiously out to her thigh, hovering in question. She gave it a pointed look, and continued to thoughtfully chew. "May I touch you?"

She had to think about it.

Because like, here was the thing. She was still really, really stressed about the whole Derick Debacle, but unfortunately she did need him, a little bit. Her body was tired and the back of her neck was pulsating, sore.

Her fingers took him by the wrist and allowed him to cup his hand around the soft bit just above her knee. She didn't speak - just continued to eat.

The spork missed the bit of chicken she had been aiming for, and so she stabbed it a little more aggressively than strictly necessary. During her mouthful, she cut her eyes at him from under her lashes to confirm he was still watching, then swallowed and toyed with her food.

"What?" he prompted. "Why have you stopped?"

She felt hivey for having his invasive Alpha stench on the air. She wasn't sure if she wanted to challenge him to leave her the fuck alone. He was touching her! Shouldn't he have been doing his own thing? When was he gonna leave her _alone_?

The spork clicked against her teeth to try and steer the next bite in. As long as she was eating, maybe she could keep him off her back? And maybe the food would help her keep her mouth shut.

"What do you want to do later?" he said.

"Whatever pleases you, Alpha."

"I wish you'd stop saying that," he murmured. "I'm very aware you don't think well of me when you call me that."

_Well, as long as that's apparent._

The spork stirred around the mess, making some gross wet noises.

"I was thinking that we could perhaps plan a trip," he said. "You could find places on a map - surely there are things you've always wanted to do, hm?"

_I wanted to graduate high school_, was the bitter thought in her head. _Go to college, and start a career and a family of my own, with a house in the same street Bonnie lives in._

"As long as I've been alive, there are still places I haven't been, and things I haven't done, but I think I'd give a unique rendition on the places you might like to go. There wouldn't be a price you could amass that I would bat an eye at," he teased. His hand squeezed on her leg, an inch higher than she'd put it. She stared at it over the top of her spork, then put the food back down into the container and stared at it some more. "Would you like to go on a trip?"

"No thank you, Alpha," she said clearly, still staring pointedly at his hand. He hesitated, then shifted it back down to where she had originally put it. "Thank you, Alpha."

He shifted on his seat.

"Would you like to go shopping online?" he said. "If you have a list, I can get what you like delivered by tomorrow."

"No thank you Alpha."

The scent of him hitched like a sour note, but she wasn't sure what the emotion was. It made no difference to her what he felt, as long as he kept his one hand where she allowed it to be.

"What can I do, love?" he asked. There was a surprising amount of patience in his voice, but that didn't make him feel less dangerous to her.

"Whatever you like," she told him dully.

"To make you feel... better," he said thoughtfully. "How can I make you feel any better?"

She shook her head. Didn't want to ask for anything. Asking never ended well for her, and besides - she was still kind of blase about the whole mess she was in. There was a sneaking suspicion in her that this outward temperament was the only thing keeping her emotions in check; very _fake it till you make it_. Not to mention it was clearly making him fret. He was better fretting than demanding or grabby, though.

"If it pleases the Alpha... You don't have to stop touching me, but you'd make me feel less like a monkey in the zoo if you stopped watching me eat," she told him dryly. 

"Believe it or not, I am trying. This would be one of those Alpha ego strokes you've no doubt heard about."

"Not really," she murmured.

"It's not so much an ego stroke as an endorphin flood," he explained. "When an Alpha behaves in a manner that rings strongly of the wolf, there's a certain... response."

"You're... happy... Because I'm eating?"

"Yes and no. You're eating something I procured for you, which is barest form of providing food for the pack. Coupled with the fact that you've rarely eaten more than a few mouthfuls, and always under duress in front of me - this is the first time I've given you something that nourishes you in a way that matters. It's... immensely satisfying."

Thinking that nothing she would say could possibly end well for her, she began to burn under the scrutiny, finishing the entire take-out container and pushing it away. Hands still resting on the counter, she looked down at the palm he still had draped over her knee.

"What else?" she asked quietly.

"What else about what?"

"What else is an ego stroke?"

"Typically any kind of wolf behavior. Brawling, establishing dominance, the hunt. That kind of thing." He leaned close. "You wouldn't believe the rush I felt when you called to me, when Camille was here. That you hid under my arm. The echos of the animals between us... of deferring to the Alpha to keep you protected, and doing the protecting of one of mine..."

Caroline was pretty sure he didn't know he was rubbing her leg, or how high the hand was getting.

"If you were inclined to ask for something, now would be the time where I wouldn't easily say no. I feel... generous."

"The behavior you want needs a reward, Alpha?"

"No. I only mean to spoil you. It isn't about coercing the behavior I want-... It's something else. The providing. Your nourishment. The gifts I want to swaddle you in are only to try and assist with soothing the rift between us, and do some work to begin to take apart the ice you've put up around yourself."

"I don't want anything, Alpha."

He put his other hand out, hovering over her knee, and covered the bony peak without asking.

"Let me hold you now."

She didn't want him to.

"I don't want to say no to you," she said under her breath.

"You can say no. Of course you can say no."

"I can't." She stood and put her chin over his shoulder, feeling his arms close around her back. "You hurt me when I say no, Alpha, and I'm tired of being hurt."

"_Caroline_." He clutched her with heat building between them, his chest expanding as he breathed her in. He rubbed her back, up under her hair, to wrap his blisteringly hot hand around the bite mark.

And that small gesture _undid _her.

She groaned, her knees going weak, and nearly fell into a puddle between his legs. Her hands shot up to curl around his shirt, and she rubbed her face down onto his shoulder, pulling the essence of him deep into her lungs.

"Den," she managed to get out, and he blurred them there faster than her human eyes could comprehend.

"You're alright," he kept saying, over and over again. His hand stayed clamped on the back of her neck, but the other stroked the length of her spine as he laid out with her completely on top of him. "You're alright, you're safe with me always, love. You're alright."

_I hate you_.

"Caroline," he stressed, the hand on her back clutching at her urgently, though she hadn't made a move to leave. "You may always tell me no."

"I can't." Muffled into his shoulder, she shut her eyes tight. "You'll hurt me."

"I won't. No more, I swear."

There was no point in arguing with him. It didn't matter. She had to play these weaknesses where she could. While he felt safe, so too did she - when he was kept calm by her entire obedient attention.

"I might sleep," she muttered, just to derail the conversation.

He kissed the side of her head, and rubbed her back some more.


	20. We Should

When Caroline was a little girl, she used to have pretty vicious night terrors. It was a habit that usually reappeared in the height of her stress during her teenage hood, but her mom hadn’t been aware of them in six years or so.

After those nightmares she couldn’t sleep again. She would make herself busy with literally anything else – a good portion of her high grades were the result of curing her waking hours. When she had been little and scared, she would call out to her dad. He would come, peel her up from her spot on the bed, and cuddle up with her on his chest like she was a baby. She would often be too hot and passingly embarrassed to need to be coddled, but it was the only thing that could get her back to sleep. Her limbs would dangle and she would plant her ear directly over her father’s heart, feeling the breaths that swelled in his lungs as he soothed her back to sleep. Her dad and his constant vigilance had been her cure for fear.

Was it any wonder she couldn’t sleep when he left?

Rousing in her later teenage years, Caroline thought of her father. She was laying over the Alpha with her ear on his thundering heart, sweating from the heat of him, her body lax and lids heavy. She’d only woken because Klaus had shifted the smallest amount. He was just readjusting under her heavy head, but it was enough to blink open her eyes and stare at the open doors of the den and think of the last time she’d felt truly safe.

Because despite living and existing in the world she once knew… She hadn’t felt safe since her father walked away. Not when her mom was home, not when she was at school. There was always a lingering, underlying threat of something coming in from the other side with intent to maim and consume.

But now?

Now she felt pretty safe.

In like, a weird, Klaus=Dad? way. Not that she had a daddy thing, but like… The general vibe in the werewolf was suspiciously… safe. And she associated it with her dad.

For a long while, she didn't say anything, or move. It was nice, being relaxed. She was exhausted in a way that wasn't physical; more than willing just to feign sleep to get the minutes to pass without stress. Untangling those complex connections she was making in her head was not a thing she could do in her current state, so she just… tried to busy her brain.

Thoughts tumbled in her head like the pound of a waterfall, churning up fragments of information in her mind's eye. His phone passcode was 1-9-2-_something_. Mosswood River would lead her home. The kitchen drawer had been refilled of sharp objects. Isaac, Camille, Marcel? Potential allies. There was a phone hub in the den. Klaus could be sensitive, which meant he could be hurt.

Everything was beginning to take shape of a workable plan, but the urge to keep her momentum up had waned.

Did she still want to try and run?

She missed her mom. She missed the comforts of her home and routine. She missed being the head of the cheerleaders, and she missed sleepovers with Bonnie. She missed knowing exactly what was coming and why, and what was considered a risk and reward. She missed the most dramatic thing in her life being a verbal brawl with Tyler.

But did she want to run right that second?

God no. No. Not even a little bit. Sue her. She was fucking _tired,_ okay? There was a pulse between them of peace, and so she sank into it and mindlessly watched the doorway. What would happen when she had to face him next?

He had demanded her acquiesce for days and she'd finally given it… but he hadn't liked mindlessness. She just… didn’t know _what the fuck_ he wanted from her. He’d had so many opportunities to hurt her – he _had _hurt her, and tricked her, and scared her – but his end game remained a mystery to Caroline in her lazy, dazed mind. The situation itself had been preoccupying so much of her brain that in the several days in his house, she really should’ve had at least some idea, but nope. Maybe she had some kind of brain damage from her ‘freezing him out’ stint, because something wasn’t quite adding up.

There was one thing she hadn’t tried in the matter of discovering his motives… and that was to talk to him. Like he was a reasonable adult, and not an ancient megalomaniac with a proven history of flighty, violent madness.

At the thought of trying to _face_ him about what came next, little flutter of fear skipped across her chest, which was what she was betting made him gently brush his hand over her hair.

"Alright?" Klaus murmured.

She shrugged one shoulder. It was as close an answer as she felt was honest, given everything she'd just been put through. A shrug summed up her state pretty well.

"Is there anything you want?" he asked.

Sure. She wanted lots of things. World peace. A solution to poverty. No more animal cruelty. (None of which would really be his speed, and the animal cruelty thing might sound like, wolf-racist.) So the next thing she truly thought of was for Tanner to be dead…

And she wanted time travel possible, so she was never stolen from her home in the first place. She was almost sure that if she opened her mouth and told the Alpha that last bit, he could conjure a working solution for it. He knew witches. He had used them in his wars, and to build the Wall. So what if there were witches on the human side – no one who wasn’t a witch knew who they were.

There was something super uncomfortable about the thought of the man who had set her up in the run, and she deliberated on whether or not it was worth asking.

"Yeah, I’m just thinking," she started slowly. Her fingers were stretching like lazy spiders over the side of his chest, feeling heat sink into the sinew between her bones. When she dug the pads of her fingers into him, he breathed a little easier. "I just-… haven't figured out how Tanner made it to the human side of the Wall..."

"He must've been invited," he answered her smoothly.

She shifted a little, lethargically going up onto her elbow. Most of her weight was balanced there, meaning she didn't feel like she was squashing anything when the rest of her lower half stayed piled on top of him. Gazing at his face, she found him open and patient, though a little frowny.

"What's the pout for?" she prompted.

"It should've occurred to me much earlier," he replied quietly. "But Tanner must've likewise had an invitation to your home, if that is where he took you from."

Her heart squeezed. Her lashes fluttered like she had meant to blink, but there was no way she could get her eyes off of him.

"He could get my mom?" she croaked.

The dawning that Tanner could potentially go after her mother... get in and out of her house as he liked... it made her rear up onto her knees between Klaus' sprawled legs. She opened and shut her mouth, then turned toward the den opening, eyes locking on the front door beyond it. Should she try and bolt for it? Why would she, when there wasn’t a chance she could even make the end of the den?

"Caroline," he said quietly, urgency making his voice low. "I've got a pack hunting him as we speak. The last location they had him was hundreds of miles away. They're still following his scent north. Your mother will be safe, I promise."

Her mom was the only family in the world she had left. For as long as her dad had walked out, Caroline had considered her father a non-event, too stubborn to think that _ignoring him_ was just her version of _coping_. Maybe if she’d had the time to grow up a little, and foster some kinder feelings, she might’ve been able to salvage that relationship. Maybe they could talk, and be good friends. Did he even know that she had been stolen? 

If Caroline could just talk to her mom…

But she couldn’t! That would mean asking Klaus to borrow his phone, and – and he would make her – bargain, or something, to do it!

She’d never, ever forgive herself if anything happened, but could she make another deal with the devil?

The desire to just - go and check her mom was okay – was so strong it printed a visual in her mind. Going down the hill outside, walking to the gate, smashing through the gate with her bare hands, and embracing her mother on the other side of it. The feel of it was so real it made every atom of her being inclined to get up and walk out. But time and time again it had only proven to hurt her, so her sag into sitting was slow and reluctant. Tucking her knees up, she hugged her shins. Her eyes went balefully down to her kneecaps, and she drew a deep breath in to contain the surge of emotion rioting in her chest.

"I promise," Klaus assured her again, sitting up. His hand closed around her forearm to give it a consoling rub. "Your mother will be perfectly safe, love."

She shrugged again.

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said dully.

A pause.

"Do you want to call her?" he offered.

Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe if she could just call her-?

"No," she muttered. Talking to her mom would only hurt, and he would use it to get something else out of her. "Maybe just text her."

"Here.“ He was already in the process of unlocking his phone and passing it over, but she shook her head and put up a hand to halt the temptation before it tempted the fragile pieces of her resolve.

"No," she clarified, eyes stuck to the screen. "I don't want to text her. _You_ text her. Just-… tell her Tanner got me from the house, so he must've had an invitation. I don't know if it'll do anything…"

The gentle rotation of his thumb on her arm was doing some of the legwork to sooth the spike of terror in her chest, but not a whole lot. The hand offering the phone lowered between them, still unlocked and on his home screen. As she wasn't looking at him, she could only rely on her nose to try and estimate what exactly that made him feel.

Wheat, bitter grass.

_Guilt_? Why was he guilty?

"Why don't you want to talk to your mother?" he said softly.

She shrugged again. It was too hard to explain, and he wouldn’t like it anyway.

“It’s hard,” she said, hoarse. Not a lie. His petting hand gave a gentle squeeze. “Hearing… she’s so familiar, and then everything else is… not. It doesn’t feel right.”

“But wouldn’t it make you feel better?”

Probably not. It would probably make her homesickness worse, recklessness increase, and her will to live fade. To be clever she really just needed to try and keep calm to keep her head above water. Besides, she had only just got a handle on her reactive insides. It would be no use upsetting the calm now.

“It wouldn’t be worth it,” she muttered.

“Yes it would, if you were happier for it,” he encouraged. A little brighter, he insisted: “Go on, love, you can speak to her for as long as you like."

"No," she told him, firming her voice. She managed to look him in the eye for a full two seconds, gritting her teeth. Then, in the most polite tone she could force from her mouth: "_Thank you_.”

He seemed to get the hint not to push the point, removing his hand from her. The lack of those horny feelings at their skin to skin contact was making her very aware that she wasn't as opposed to touching him now. Like, if she could remain entirely in her own power, sure. He could hold her hand. It wasn’t _that _bad.

He plucked the phone from the floor and put it back into his back pocket, once again forgoing the lock feature. So he didn’t lock his doors, or his phone? What kind of heathen-?

"Are you hungry?"

"I need to wash my hair," she replied. Her scalp was severely gross. Even without touching it, she felt the grime and filth caking into her roots. She could only blindly hope that when she did, he wasn't overcome by his wolfy-ness and want to nuzzle her head, or re-scent mark her, or something. "And I just ate.”

“You barely ate,” he chided softly. His weight shifted on his knees, discomfort ringing loudly in the space between them. “Don’t do this, Caroline. Don’t freeze me out again.”

Blinking, she looked up at him for a moment, seeing his lamp-like eyes huge and guilty in his head. His lips were parted and sad, tension making the corners of his eyes pinched. He tilted his head at her slowly, easing into sitting on his backside with his hands non-threateningly by his sides.

“I’m not,” she grumbled. “I don’t know how I did it before.”

He didn’t make a sound for a few long seconds, eyes thoughtfully going up and down the subtle nuances of her face. The second he read her, his expression fell, and a disappointed waft of his cologne filled the space between them.

"You're still sick," he deduced. "I'm still making you feel sick, aren’t I?"

"Well," she commented dryly, in a sad attempt at humor. "I haven't thrown up in a while so I’m getting better, I guess."

Did he expect her to just wake up and be totally fine with the way things were going? Wasn't he supposed to be some kind of mad genius? Why could he not see why her temper was tested just by being there?

She was still a freakin’ captive, for crying out loud. And besides, he’d just proven that he was full tilt crazy pants.

Who would be happy about living with him?

The tension between them did not dissipate like she had hoped the joke might do. The guilt in him was weaving in and out of some other pretty complicated things, and she recognized a few hints of _fury_ and a touch of _stress_, but nothing was ever concrete enough to definitively call it one thing or another.

“Caroline,” he said, very gently. “Look at me, for a moment, please.”

Out of all the times she had willfully ignored the request, she would never be completely sure of why this was the time that she idiotically gave in to it. Later, she would reason with herself that it was the tone of his _please_ that had been the magic factor. The briefest glance into his eyes had her trapped in the glaze of his compulsion, and she couldn’t help but whimper, her bottom lip trembling.

“Breathe,” he advised. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch you. You are safe.”

“Don’t compel me,” she whimpered, and then: “I’m sorry, don’t compel me, don’t make me say-“

“Caroline,” he said faintly, making her words evaporate into a frightened puff. “You have every right to remain cautious, and within the realm of your own control. But you’re not scared of me, and you cannot lie. Just for one hour. I’ll set an alarm for when you will stop.”

“I won’t be scared,” she parroted. Part of her knew that this was a manipulation – that it wasn’t her choice. There was rage, and unease, but the fear that would’ve made her silent was no longer present. She watched him scroll through his phone and set the timer to count down for what was going to be the longest sixty minutes of her life. “I’ll be honest. For an hour.”

“Good,” he said idly. He showed her the ticking time wheel, and then put the phone between them face up. “Because I think it’s about time you and I cleared some things up here. It’ll only benefit us, I swear.”

Did she believe him?

Kinda.

Did she anticipate that this was an artfully arranged little game to make her drop her guard?

Yup.

Was she going to let him know that?

Absolutely not.

If she was still in the realm of her own control, as he had compelled, that meant that there was a way for her to work this in her advantage. If he fully believed that she would tell him her whole truth, and she was careful? There were ways to lie without lying, and he’d be none the wiser.

“Ask me anything,” he encouraged.

_Is this a trick?_

“I don’t want you to get mad at me,” she admitted.

“If I do, I won’t take it out on you. I’ll-…” He searched for the word, then twisted his face like it tasted awful in his mouth. “Behave.”

“Your version of ‘behaving’ and mine are _so_ not the same thing,” she mumbled, testing his response.

He gave a puff of amusement, glittering with knowing.

“Very true. I won’t react explosively,” he promised, which sounded more along the lines of what she expected.

“You’ve changed since the whole – thing, with Derick.” Fiddling with the end of the blanket in front of her allowed her to duck her eyes for a scant few seconds, giving her a moment to adjust to the shift in his scent. It was pungent wheaty guilt, and something that had a touch of roses in it. She didn’t know what that bit was, but it wasn’t bad. “You would’ve reacted however you wanted before.”

“I was trying to be on my best behavior,” he countered. “Just so you know.”

“Yeah, well…” _Try harder_. “Anyway. I just wanted to know why you changed.”

“I didn’t know I had changed,” he told her. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” Her eyes slid thoughtfully to the ceiling as she sifted through the things that had evidenced his difference. There had been a lot of things in his manner, but picking out bits and pieces was hard. “I don’t know. You are more… panicky, or something. You’re more -…Soft.”

“Was I very hard on you before?”

Incredulity made her stare at him openly with big eyes.

Was he being serious?

“Klaus.” She lifted her brows at him. “I actively wanted you to kill me.”

He flinched. It was his turn to look away. The smell of wheat and grass made her nose scrunch.

“Yes, well, I don’t know why.”

Oh boy.

“Just tell me why you changed,” she said, before they took a trip down memory lane and she listed all the ways he had been horrible to her. “Because that’s really confusing to me.”

“It shouldn’t be a mystery. You froze me out,” he said simply. When she continued to stare, he elaborated: “It’s a serious response, Caroline. It undoes the psychology of an Alpha. It’s never happened to me before, and I’ll never let it happen again as long as I live.”

“You hated it,” she estimated.

“Violently and with a passion,” he agreed. “I would’ve done anything for you to warm to me again.”

“And I’m warm to you now?”

“Yes.”

“You did it when you touched my neck,” she pointed out. She rubbed the bite on her nape. “When you touched me here. You made me – unfreeze, or whatever.”

“I didn’t,” he rebutted. “No one can force that, not even me. The person who freezes is the only one who can bring themselves out of the cold.”

“Well I didn’t do it,” she said boldly. “Because I didn’t want to.”

“Why didn’t you want to?”

“Because it was hurting you,” flew out of her mouth. “Because it was making you be nicer to me.”

“I wasn’t-“ He stopped, studying her face. “I didn’t know that I was… wholly unkind, before.”

“I’m not going to say what I really think about that, because you will absolutely, for sure, get mad at me,” she told him boldly. “So I’ll just point out that I would’ve rather stayed numb so I could do as I was told and keep you happy. You logically should’ve left me to freeze. I don’t get what the big problem is.”

“The problem with you being frozen was that you were miserable, love,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, so?” she challenged. “I was doing everything you wanted me to. I was eating and sleeping and being naked. Why wouldn’t you want me like that?”

“If those were things I had wanted, would I have not hidden away your clothes?” he said, a little sharply. “Would I not have shoveled the food down your throat, or simply drugged you to have you sleep? Better yet, why wouldn’t I just compel you as I have now, if mindless obedience was my end goal?”

“I don’t know what your end goal is.” She sniffed self-righteously. “I _think_ it’s to have sex with me.”

“That is not, my end goal.” He scowled. “I’m not a fucking animal, you know.”

“You keep telling me you are,” she said matter-of-factly. “And trying to convince me that it’s something I’m becoming, too.”

“Because it is elements of animal. But I am no more ruled by the beast within than you are,” he explained, his voice straining to patience. Would he snap? “And once again, my world isn’t revolving around the idea of sex, thank you very much. My end goal, just to be very clear, is to make the pack happy. You are a part of that.”

“What? No. Why? Me?” She frowned. “Your goal is to make me happy?”

“Of course it is.”

“But you-!“ she accused, then stopped. Did she really want to push what was going on between them, when it appeared to be going so well? “With-… The thing, with Derick. That was – bad. On purpose, bad. You – you wanted to hurt me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because you were hurting me.”

“Okay first of all, how?”

“You kept calling me a monster.”

“You-!” She blinked, settled her hackles. “_Klaus_. You kidnapped me, bit me, drank my blood, made a habit of groping me. What exactly did you think that you were going to look like, through my eyes? A prince charming in a nice car?”

“I hadn’t thought of how you would see me,” he replied. “I thought only of how you would feel me. If you understood the way I am – the way I was. I expected much more of you, and for that mistake I have suffered, and will likely continue to suffer. I broke the both of us. Your dulled light nearly ruined me.”

There was a lot to unpack there. In that collection of words there was just – _a whole lot_ – and the cogs of her brain were already working on breaking it into bite sized bits. She kept on with her original train of thought to avoid travelling down a path that would leave her currently pressing questions unanswered for any longer.

“But why did you want to hurt me?” she asked him. “Because that’s what the thing with Derick was. You wanted to hurt me, and make me scared.”

“I did,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I regret it having happened.”

“Well it happened,” she told him bluntly. “You broke me pretty good for a minute there.”

“I did. I knew it would. But in doing so I shattered the grasp on my version of how I would have us form. When I broke you, I broke me too.”

“So you regret feeling bad?” she accused. She swallowed a hard mouthful. “You don’t regret the part where I’m fucking traumatized, you regret the part where you feel guilty.”

“No. No, I didn’t mean to hurt you very badly. I only wanted to scare you a little.” He held up a thumb and forefinger to demonstrate how little he thought was acceptable to scare her. “I know I scared you. It was my intention at the time. I regret it, and I will do everything in my power to build something between us that isn’t wrought of fear and hatred.

“That is less than okay,” she told him flatly. “And you had better keep your promise not to blow up, because I don’t fucking believe you.”

“You don’t believe I want to have a working relationship with you?” he demanded. “You don’t believe it galls me to have you cowed and trembling in my den? That I wouldn’t prefer you glowing and whole, freely affectionate and needy of me? I would spoil you blind if you were even an inch more inclined to like me.”

Yeah, yeah. Okay. He’d made pretty noise before. This was just another one of those times she was just gonna have to wait for his temper to backflip, and then she would be hurt again. Never in a million years could she have ever predicted the awful scene with Derick, so there really was no estimating what the hell was coming next.

“If you’re gonna punish me for saying stuff you don’t like,” she said dully, completely ignoring his words. “Can you just get it over with already?”

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes.

“It stops today, how nightmarish your world has become. I will not be your bump-in-the-dark anymore,” he told her, low and firm. “I am your Alpha, and I will protect you from the horrors of the world before I become them.”

“You are my horrors,” she retorted. “But whatever you say, Alpha.”

“No.” Fixing the crook of his forefinger under her chin, he tried to steer her to look at him. She didn’t so much as lift her eyes to the collar of his shirt, instead fixing it to the medallion on the end of a leather cord. “None of that. You will call me by my name, or I will _truly_ lose my temper.”

‘I’ll behave’ her left tit.

When he released her chin, she left it hiked at him, tempting his eye to her throat. Maybe he’d straight up pull it out if she pushed him enough?

“Yes Alpha,” she said, arching both brows at him. Well! Who’s bright idea was it to make her completely without fear?

“Don’t push,” he advised.

“You’d have better luck telling me not to-“

“Not to breathe, yes, you’ve told me before,” he quipped.

“Actually, I was going to say you’d have better luck telling me not to blink, seeing as I have no good reason to look away from your face any more,” she said blandly. “Turns out the only reason I never look you in the eye is because the thought of you compelling me is terrifying. Just FYI.”

“I had gathered,” he said dryly. He took in a calming breath. “Surely you can understand that my past – the eras I have known, and the time that has blended together… It’s been easier for me in the past to show people my strengths in viciousness. It used to be I could slake my thirst for violence at the incorrect bow of a man. Now I have to manufacture it to court the ones I want.”

“Firstly: Gross,” she snapped. “Secondly: Dead guys don’t turn me on.”

“Yet more information I had arrived at myself, thank you.”

“Thirdly: why, if I am so important to you, would you want to show me your – violent-ness, or whatever?”

“I wanted you to stop trying to run off. That’s all,” he admitted. “I wanted you scared to keep you still. I thought if you weren’t afraid for what I’d do to you, you’d be afraid of what I’d do to someone else in your stead.”

“I don’t get why you would hate it so much if I left?” she pressed. “I haven’t been – what you want. I haven’t given you anything worth having. I know you need me to be – something else, so why wouldn’t you just let me go?”

“It’s dangerous,” he told her quietly. “Even now, if you threatened to leave… I would see it as that. A threat. If you left, Caroline, we would both suffer. Ordinarily both parties would die, but given that I cannot - I would suffer for god knows how long. It would be immensely unpleasant, of course, but it would also leave me exceptionally vulnerable. I have a number of enemies who would flock to take advantage of my weakness.”

The whole time he’d been talking, she had been fearlessly staring him in the eye. The only reason she became aware of it was because she saw a touch of rehashed frustration start to bleed into his features. He seemed tired of conflict, of waiting for a shadow to pounce. It was strange to see, after knowing him solely as the Mad King.

“You didn’t even feel bad about it,” she pointed out. “Until Marcel said something.”

“I had thought that you were chastised into something malleable. That you were playing sympathetic,” he muttered. “I’m not proud of how badly I misjudged that.”

“What did he say?” she prodded. “He took you aside for like two seconds, and he said something that made you guilty. It’s the guiltiest I’ve literally ever felt you.”

He rubbed his face to make the pitiful expression dissipate, and released a long breath outward.

“Marcellus has a special way of speaking sense,” he grumbled. “Particularly to me. He put it very plainly, not from your eyes or even his own. He steered me back into my own head; he asked me what I would do, if someone else had made you feel the way I had made you feel.”

Caroline blinked.

“What would you have done?” she asked curiously.

“Razed the earth. If anyone had made you weep, and frightened, the way I had made you feel, I would employ every second of my considerable expertise in war and agony, and I would cast a net so wide that people would be scared to so much as say your name in a way I didn’t like,” he said pointedly. “For what it’s worth… Caroline, you must know. I am sorry that I did it. Scared you. With… the Derick debacle. I didn’t mean – I meant to, obviously, I meant to frighten you, but I never meant it to be – detrimental.”

Oh.

Like…

She had thought it wouldn’t mean anything if he wised up and said sorry, but it absolutely didn’t hurt. It was kind of humbling.

“It’s so not okay,” she said bluntly. “But… thank you for saying sorry. Even though it was a sucky apology. It was better than nothing. Don’t do it again.”

“Never,” he vowed. “I’ve seen many things, love. Stupidly, and selfishly, I thought that in order for us to fit as two halves of a whole, I’d need to break you down to fit the shape of what I am. That isn’t what happened-“

“No shit.”

“Not a single one,” he agreed. “I didn’t break you to fit me, I broke us both. I think now would be the pertinent time to reassemble into the shape of what we are, and can be. Together.”

“And what exactly does that look like to you?”

For a long moment he was lost in thought, eyes searching her face. She wasn’t sure if he found what he was looking for.

“I asked you how we could compromise, once. I think this is how we should best do it. You, understanding that I am not the worst thing in your world, and me, understanding that I had best get my bloody temper under control and start using my words, or I will be useless to you as a protector. That’s what I want. To protect you.”

“Then why would you act like the ‘worst thing in my world’?” she parroted back. “Why would you treat me the way you have been?”

“I don’t know what I’ve done that’s made you feel a slave to me,” he said, completely miffed. “I can’t understand it. I’ve asked nothing of you but to stay with me.”

Caroline… could not… process…

This man – this whole ass, old ass, grown ass man – did not _get_-? He didn’t understand why she was upset? STILL?

Later, she wouldn’t know how she’d kept calm.

“I was stolen,” she advised him crisply. “Everything I do here is against my will.”

“I haven’t asked you to do anything,” he repeated. “All I’ve wanted is for you to be near me while we settle the claim. I have offered you travel and valuables-“

“Again,” she interrupted loudly. “Everything. Is. Against. My. Will.”

Pausing, the Hybrid chose his words very carefully, finally getting a proper understanding of the warning notes in her tone. Or possibly her scent. Maybe both.

The deep inhale through his nose spoke to the temper he was trying to control, which seared spicy and hot up into her sinuses. For a long second, she locked up every joint to prepare for whatever creative and devastating thing he had in store for her in response. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had done this time in order to avoid doing it again, but she was sure he’d tell her eventually.

“I understand that,” he said. “But I wasn’t exactly anticipating taking on an unwilling person into my pack. This situation between us was not something I sought out. You and I are the only ones in this claim, and we need to figure out how best to deal with what we become.”

“I hate the way you say it like that,” she mentioned breezily. “Like we’re romantic, or something.”

“Not romantic,” he said mildly. “But your human labels won’t do us justice.”

As if she had a choice. ‘Us’. Lovely.

“Are you going to tell me what I have to do?” she asked, dejected. “Because there’s clearly something getting lost here. You don’t seem to get that I am not keen on being your pet, or whatever, and that my forever is like a blink to you.”

“Forever?” His volume was pitched maybe a little quieter than normal, and still full-tilt staring at the side of her head.

Humming, she pursed her lips and considered her many thoughts.

“Yeah. Until I die, you said.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well for the foreseeable future, you also said,” she pointed out. Heart drumming at the inside of her rib cage, Caroline gave a jerky shrug, she rubbed her hands together. “Whatever. Can you just tell me what you want me to do, so I can start the rest of my life already?” 

So now was the time he was going to tell her what she had to do for him? Would it be chores, or just other general slavery things? At least she would finally know what was gonna happen, and plot her escape while she did it. But seeing as he had sunk so low as to compel her for this little chat, would he be bothered to let her roam free without the over arcing compulsion not to leave the property, or something?

“Oh my god,” he said faintly. His lashes slid shut. He turned his head to one side, then the other, slowly shaking it. “You… think this is forever.”

“You said you were gonna keep me forever,” she retorted. When his eyes opened, they were so crystal blue that it made her frown. She had thought acknowledging his wolf-y claim would do something to the color of his eyes – maybe make some of that pretty gold blur the edges. But no - everything was plain ol' human blue. “That we were like, werewolf dating, and that I was always yours, or something.”

“You’ve been thinking that I-…” He pointed to the center of his own chest. “Have been angling to keep you, in _this_ state, forever?”

“Like…” She shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his staring. “Honestly I didn't think that it mattered what I was like at all. I just expect that you're gonna change me to be whatever you like.”

Another long breath in, and out. He didn’t blink. Very calmly, he bowed his head as though paying his respects in a church.

“Caroline,” he said, much more patiently than he ever had. “I don’t mean to keep you forever, and I don’t want to hurt you to seal the claim.”

She froze. Her eyes bulged. The only thing that moved about her was the startled breath she sucked in.

“Say that again?” she breathed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated. He looked her dead in the eye, looking far younger and more innocent than he had any right to. “I want you to be safe. I want you to feel close to me-“

“The other part,” she said, pitched. “Say the other bit.”

“I don’t mean to keep you forever,” he repeated. “I’m only keeping you near to me for as long as distance between us would kill you. But once you and I have settled the claim, of course I will let you go.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she really, really hoped he wouldn’t be upset when she misunderstood him as letting her go home. Because her whole head was gonna explode from the pressure of trying to keep everything locked neatly away.

“Go where?”  
  
“Back to your mother, I assume,” he said quietly.

His hand was… very warm. Her fingers were holding on to him so tight that her knuckles were not the same color as the rest of her hand. Her lungs had run out of breath, so she managed to make them swell with clean air, but it felt like something was constricting her throat to let the breath go.

“I don’t understand,” she told him wetly.

“I should’ve spoken to you this plainly in the beginning,” he said, more to himself than to her. “All for a bloody misunderstanding-“

“Say it again,” she demanded.

“I’m not keeping you here forever,” he promised. His hand smoothed over hers. “Your education is fucking appalling, just so you know-“

“Say it,” she said around a sob. She dug her nails into him. “Say it again?”

“Caroline,” he repeated. “My keeping you isn’t forever in terms of literal distance. I meant that you were a part of my pack – you will always be one of mine now. But once the claim is settled-”

“I can go?” She shook, unsure if it was a lie, and tried to discreetly wipe her tears with the back of one hand. It was a trick. It had to be. But what was the fun of it? What purpose did it serve?

“Yes,” he fretted. “Yes, you’ll go home.”

“I thought-“ she choked. Stopped. Shut her eyes. A trick. It had to be a trick. “Are you lying?”

“No,” he murmured. 

“You’re lying.”

“When we settle the claim,” he pressed. “When it is safe, love. You can go home.”

“I don’t under_stand_,” she said again. Hiccuped sobs trapped her words for a minute, but she physically couldn’t control herself long enough to keep them at bay. “I don’t – _please_ – don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” He petted her knee, his torso angled forward like he was about to duck his head to her shoulder. His wide hand cupped around the back of her neck, thumb consoling on her pulse.

“You said-!” she pitched. But what _had_ he said? God! Everything felt like it had happened so long ago. She sniffed, peeked at him from between her fingers. “You said – you were go-gonna keep me the – th-the rest of m-my natural life!”

“Your natural life changed the minute I laid my teeth into you with the coat of my blood. Once you came home with me and smelt of my pack, you ceased being entirely human.” He stroked the remnants of a tear on her cheek, his kind thumb swiping gently on her skin. The weight of his hand on her nape was such a comfort she started to be able to breathe a little easier – but the tears just kept coming. “You will run faster, hit harder, and live longer than most humans. Not by much, but at least a noticeable little.”

“I don’t understand,” she echoed, hiding her face in both palms. “Klaus I don’t – I don’t understand-“

When she surfaced from her hands, she sucked back the worst of the blockage in her nose back, blinking rapidly at the languid hybrid. She could see that he was much calmer, and wondered if it was her scent, or just his understanding, that let him know she was much, much better.

“Then why would you not-? Just _say that_? Klaus! I thought I was go-gonna die here-“

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were gonna – rape me – and then you- you – kept the collar –“

“I know,” he soothed. “I’m sorry, love.”

“You made me p-pick a wedding ring!”

“It’s only symbolic. To replace the collar,” he said at first, then huffed when she started to cry a little harder. “The collar is not a mark of ownership, it’s to mimic the feel of a hand on your throat, to hide your weakest point.“

Like he was doing right now?

“You kept – I kept trying – we were trying to –“ She took her hand from his to trap the long keen behind her palm. “Eve-ry-time you touched me- the – sexy – stupid – compulsion-!”

“Contradictory to what you wanted,” he agreed. “I know. It’s not meant to be nefarious – it’s only supposed to encourage touch. You won’t be here forever against your will, I promise.”

She believed him.

There was just one teensy, teeny, itty bitty problem.

If it turned out to be a lie, Klaus would get what he wanted out of her with precisely zero resistance. A lamb to his slaughter, Caroline would skip merrily down the path of becoming a solid part of his pack, just to have the idea of home back within her grasp. If she agreed and stopped struggling with accepting the claim, there would be nothing to stop him from simply demanding what she feared most on the other side of that – when she would be willing and able to be his idiot Beta, and happy about following his orders.

That pesky thought, while very alarming, was made quiet under a willful amount of hope.

It had been running in such short supply, that the barest taste of this wonderful thing had her openly staring at him, tears welling and spilling from her eyelashes. Chin trembling, she reached out a tear streaked hand and put her palm gently against the side of his face, fearless in that moment. It didn’t feel like he was lying, but something about him was not honest.

Not evil!... But not honest.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, Klaus inclined his head to press a delicate kiss on the inside of her wrist, nuzzling the offered hand without blinking. It had been… ages… since she had been able to look him in the eye. It finally felt right.

“I need tissues, and a shower,” she told him thickly, trying to sniff and finding her nasal passage completely clogged. “And some aspirin. And can you make me a coffee? And then we can talk some more?”

“Yes,” he said, relieved. He pressed a swift kiss to her temple. It was affectionate, but not necessarily romantic. Having a different lens to view his behavior through was starting to make a_ lot_ of things make a _lot_ more sense. “Yes, of course I will. Take your time. I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been bought forward by like, six chapters??? To clear some things up.   
Thank you all very much for your continued written support and excitement! It means the world.   
xx


	21. Talk

Even though Caroline washed her hair twice, she was in and out of the shower in under half the time she usually took. It made her feel twitchy and nervous to shut her eyes for any length of time – not that he hadn’t seen all the lady business, at that stage – but she scrubbed her hair free of bubbles with her eyes on the door. But her urgency wasn’t because she had fear that Klaus would come waltzing in on her in the state of undress – oh no. The urge to get in, get clean, and get out again had more to do with what they were finally gonna talk about when she got back downstairs.

There were clothes in the yellow room that were meant for her. A fairly solid bra was among the new brand-label bags. She donned it like a battle armor, and dressed in the provided jeans and a sweater, yanking the tags off without looking. He’d left a pair of pretty pastel pumps, but she didn’t bother putting them on. 

Padding down to the kitchen with her wet hair slicked back from her face, she fiddled with the beading on the end of the sleeve. It was weighty and solid, obviously super expensive. This time she hadn’t checked the numbers, but she’d recognized the high end label.

While still under the compulsion of honesty and no fear, there was no chance that she could stop herself from asking the things she needed to know... but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t considered that she also might not like the answers.

“Thanks for the bra,” she said, a little strained. “Uhm, I need hair ties.”

“I’ll send for some,” he told his coffee. There were a few pieces of toast and a selection of spreads near to a steamy cup of coffee. It was next to him, so that was where she sat. “So. About that talk.”

Seeing as her stomach wasn’t feeling all that great, she ignored the offered toast and plucked her mug from the table, turned to watch him front on. Whatever he was feeling was a mystery to her, and not being able to gauge it made her shoulders tense with anticipation. Was he mad? Did he think she was stupid? Would she care if he did?

“I called your mother to tell her about Tanner,” he started. He wasn’t even attempting to look at her, pretending to be busy with stirring his coffee. “She sends her love. She’d like to talk to you soon.”

“Is she going to get out of the house?” she replied, blatantly ignoring the squishier parts of that statement. She was trying to stay linear, for god’s sake. “Does she know how he got the invite?”

“She’s moving in with a friend for a time, so she’ll be safe,” he agreed. “If she knew how he got in, she didn’t say as much to me, but she told me she’d call if she uncovers anything.”

“So she knows that supes are crossing the wall?”

“She’s a part of your human council, so of course she does. The only creatures who don’t cross the wall are vampires,” he told her mildly. “Wolves usually have free reign. Unless it’s a full moon, any member of this side can come and go as they like.”

“_What_?” she shot back, furrowing her brows at him. “Isn’t the whole point of the wall supposed to keep everything inhuman out?”

“Wolves rarely mean much harm to humans.” Taking a sip of his coffee, he watched her meaningfully over the rim, fingers drumming on the hold of his mug. “When the full moon hits, yes, they are cast back to this side of the Wall just in case they begin to lose their humanity. But they have the privilege of choice on any other day. They can pass as harmless, so they often do.”

“But Isaac…?” she nearly mentioned the crush that Isaac had on a human in the human faction of Mystic Falls. He’d never met her in person, so he’d been luring some human over – but if he could go over there, why didn’t he? It didn’t matter much, but it still crossed her mind. She remembered just in the nick of time that Klaus hadn’t known about that. It uncovered a surprising amount of reluctance to tell him, and rat Isaac out. She didn’t want to betray that tiniest amount of trust. “Uh, nothing.”

“What?” he prodded. “Has he told you otherwise?”

“No,” she said quickly, and pulled something out of her ass to cover. “It’s just – I know he was a human recently, so I just… I just thought the wall kept everything out.”

“That was the misconception that we allowed to take root when my family and I had it crafted,” Klaus agreed. “We are rather good at saying just enough to let people believe what they most prefer. The majority of humans were in revolt, yes, and they wanted some utopia of only their kind, but the rest of us were likewise against it - some to a violent degree. We had to be careful that there was still an option for those who could make it.”

“But humans and – everything else – can’t live safely together,” she stated.

It was common sense. Humans were a source of food for vampires, breeding stock for wolves, and havestables for witches. _Everyone _knew that. It was literally engrained in everything they did, to refuse the slightest bit of animal or vampire in a person.

“You truly believe that?” he wondered, an inquisitive arch to his brow. “Even knowing that we co-inhabited this earth for hundreds of years before we were known to the masses?”

She gave a pathetic little half-shrug.

“We aren’t the ones with the problem. It’s the humans that start the wars,” he said simply. So simply, like he didn’t just blanket statement the vast majority of the world, and undermine everything she knew.

“Psh, yeah, okay,” she said under her breath, looking studiously at the table.

“I have a healthy respect for human life when it isn’t in my way. After all, were the humans all to die, my source of nourishment would dwindle into nothingness, and I don’t want that,” he pointed out. “It is just an unfortunate wonder to humankind that they are not the top of the food chain. After all the years spent lording about with machines and weapons, very few people willingly come ‘round to the concept of being anything lesser than apex predators.”

“No offence,” she muttered. Her nail dragged on the table, getting rid of a stray splinter. “But I kind of don’t believe you.”

“I see that. But I’ll ask you to consider the teacher who told you there was such a thing as ‘too feminist’,” he teased lightly. There was a flicker of something in his scent that spoke of – fondness? Caroline assumed she wasn’t deciphering it correctly. Why would Klaus be fond about one of the only things she’d ever told him about her life before being captured? “As the generations of men who came before you who only ever understood that they were the be all and end all because they had been told so. No one likes to be at the top of the ladder, only to be knocked down by something that cannot be combated.”

“I guess you’re not wrong.” Leaning back in her seat, a self-conscious arm crossed over her stomach. When she sipped her coffee, he beamed.

“We could’ve made it so that there was no crossing at all. There was an option. But if my family and I had ordained that there would be no human intermingling, we would’ve had a rebellion from all factions worth their weight in battle. Even _we _wouldn’t have stood long against all the witches and werewolves who cared to turn their backs.”

“I thought Originals were immortal?”

“We are so far, and that’s how I’d like to stay, which would be why we allowed the witches and wolves to do mostly as they liked in regard to the wall. One may only stay King while the people revere him.” The tone of his voice was light, but there was an undercurrent of something more serious lingering on the fringe of each spoken word. He was nervous about something and trying not to let it show. “Now, you’ve successfully derailed the conversation quite well, but we still need to talk.“

Ugh. No matter the context, no one ever liked hearing that.

Her cringe was entirely unsubtle. She thought he’d take her attempt at conversation at face value, and keep it up while she was giving him something to work with – that maybe she could give him just enough of her attention that he would go easy.

Like, her world was spinning. Was it so bad that she wanted him to give her a break?

“I’m going to explain everything I can,” he said, very coolly. Too coolly. His hand clamped over the rock solid muscle in her thigh, weighing her down before she could start bouncing her leg. “Be calm, Caroline. You’re in no trouble. It’s just a talk, and it’s long over-due. You may not like what is said, but I apparently need to be crystal clear with you.”

Oh god. Oh _god_. What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do to her now? What was he gonna _tell_ her? What would the punishment be, if she freaked out? He’d never – he’d never been still and serious like this before. And he knew – he _knew _whatever he was gonna say, she wasn’t going to like, and if he – if he was already trying to stop her from leaving –?

It wasn’t fear, but nervousness. His hand did little to stop the anxious bobbing of her knee.

“Just start,” she grunted at him, petulantly glowering from behind her coffee.

“Do you mind if I touch you here?” he replied patiently, raising his brows. He cast his eyes at the hand attempting to soothe her movement. “Say no, and I will remove my hand.”

Shrugging, she took a bigger mouthful of coffee. The flavour was rich and warm, coating her insides. How long had it been since she’d consumed something so delicious? She thought of having to swallow Klaus’ blood, but that didn’t seem so bad in the light of day.

“I don’t mind if it stays there,” she said, because she was evidentially still compelled to speak the truth without fear. She met his gaze. “But no higher.”

“No higher,” he agreed. Well shit. That was easy. “Now. After I spoke to your mother, Camille called.”

Caroline looked at the hybrid’s hand on her leg, surprised to see that her free hand had latched onto it. She hadn’t meant to touch him at all, but this wasn’t of the weird sexy variety, and she wasn’t trying to push him away. Nothing, not even her higher brain functions, made her want to let go. He was comforting, and she needed it.

A high keen came out of her throat, quietened by the soft dig of his fingers into her flesh.

“Whatever she said,” she blurted. “She’s probably lying so that I get in trouble! She just said something bad to get me back for stabbing her – I didn’t, I didn’t say anything against you-“

“Don’t fret,” he urged her. “Don’t be frightened-“

“I’m not,” she protested. “I’m _stressed_.”

“She didn’t tell me what was said, so your exact words are safe between the two of you,” he amended. “Caroline, she didn’t tell me what you said. What she did was _very strongly_ advise me that if I ever wanted to earn any measure of your trust I must be transparent. No more guessing. I must always assume that you have no idea what is happening between us, and explain.”

Chest heaving, she processed that. Klaus didn’t know what she had said? And he-… Had assumed she knew what the fuck was going on?

“Trust?” she repeated, wobbly.

“Yes, trust. I can explain.” A beat passed. He waited until she gave an unsure nod before he started. “Werewolves are very driven by animal instinct, as you well know. Are you familiar with the main three in the hierarchy?”

Of course she knew that. Everyone knew that.

“Yeah. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.”

“And what do you know about the role they play?” 

Apparently he was out of accepting shrugs as answers, because he didn’t let her get away with the one she gave him then. With a small clearing of her throat, Caroline inspected the decorative cuffs of her sweater without releasing his wrist from her clutches.

“Alphas are the head of the pack,” she started boldly. But her confidence dwindled to speak of the other two; all the things they had taught her in school didn’t exactly ring true, any more. “Betas… make up the workers who do what the Alpha says outside of the house, and Omegas stay with the Alpha to… keep the house and the babies.”

“Did Tanner seem much a homemaker to you?” he asked her dryly.

Her palms were so sweaty.

“No,” she muttered. She took a sip of coffee to give her an extra moment to speak plainly. “But I only know what they taught me in school.”

A pause.

“Your education is fed through a human veil, so I suppose mistakes were always a given. I am beginning to understand now, why things between us have been... As they have.” He thought for a moment, the weight of his gaze nearly making her head droop. She didn’t look away. She met him where he was and held him there, in the very clear blue of his eyes. “But you are correct in one thing; Alphas lead the pack.”

It occurred to her then:

How_ would_ humans know the intricacies of pack dynamics?

Their race had only semi-recently even become aware of werewolves as a real thing, and all the factions were super secretive about the ways they operated differently.

“And while the rest of the pack defers to the Alpha,” Klaus went on. “It is rarely the case that they are blindly obedient in the den or out in the world, as you seem to have been taught. The role of the Alpha is not to demand or control for the sake of it. It is to _protect_ and _provide_.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, to fill the empty air between them.

His fingers were going blue from lack of circulation under her tightly clutching hand, but he hadn’t complained or tried to shift away. She adjusted into something less desperate, relaxing her grip. As soon as she gave that tiniest of inches, his thumb was moving to soothe her in little rainbow arches against her knee. It was nice.

“Cami advised me to check in with you as soon as things changed,” he mentioned. “Do you mind terribly if I touch you like this?”

Caroline was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything new but stroke her with his thumb… But to be asked? To have him check-in, for something as tiny as that?

It made her breathe easier.

“Yeah,” she exhaled. Her own thumb started to circle on the inside of his wrist. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

“S’alright,” he murmured, swallowing quietly. He seemed to search for his train of thought for a minute, then started to explain again. “Alphas… We - protect. That protection being everything from caloric intake, to positive social interactions, to solving in-fighting. It _can_ be discipline if one of the pack are acting in a way that is detrimental to themselves or to others. Do you believe me so far?”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t utter bullshit just yet, so she’d play ball. Besides, he smelt like – the ocean. It wasn’t in any way corrupt. It was the whole and complete truth as he knew it. Fresh, bright, clean, natural. That’s what the truth smelled like. “But what kind of discipline?”

“It used to commonly be to brawl, but likely not the way you think,” he told her casually. “It’s more the kind of fighting you see in puppies when they are young. Given, we more often draw blood, but it isn’t with malice.”

“You never do that with me.”

His hiked his brows.

“And your response to me trying to fight you, however small the capacity, would’ve been to what?” He waited for an answer she wouldn’t give. Sensing her reluctance, he continued. “It is common, but it used to be one of the only methods of maintaining hierarchy, which is why the image of a physically intimidating Alpha is so prevalent, even to your human standard. But more recently it’s become the way of things to simply ground members of the pack.”

“Ground them?” she parroted in disbelief. “You can _ground _the pack?”

“It rather depends on the offence, truth be told.” There was an amused lilt to him. “Most people I cross these days are glued to some screen or rather. You should see Isaac when I remove the internet router.”

“I don’t think Isaac is ballsy enough to cross you,” she replied without thinking. Maybe it was the lack of fear and total honesty, thing. “I know I only do it when I want to die, so I have nothing to lose.”

He frowned.

“Which is something I want to change,” he said tightly. Klaus took in a calming breath through his nose, visibly counting to ten, then relaxed a little. “It’s alright. Are you alright?”

Nodding, her knee continued to bob with renewed nervous energy. She fixed her eyes on the hand she had clamped to his wrist, and exhaled shakily.

“As I was saying,” he said, strained. “Being that an Alpha’s sole motivation is to protect and provide to better their pack, it means that we stand with the ability to claim a person. The bite will only take if they will serve the pack in some positive way.”

“So I-?” Both her shoulders went rigid. “I have to – serve? – you _and_ Isaac?!”

“No,” he replied quickly, his voice rough. “Caroline, no. That is not your purpose. You know he follows the letter of your word, and Isaac would never hurt you. Let me rephrase.”

Heart hammering, her knee started to bop with the flood of energy that bubbled in her veins. The _concept _of serving anyone had been galling only weeks ago; the reality of being (Claim?-)napped by a werewolf on a mating run had promised her that her freedom was flung into the stratosphere. No more a concept, but an eventuality.

“A member of the pack can only be taken in if there is – a measure of change that will come with them. Something that only they can provide.” Hand squeezing her leg, he paused for a moment. “It’s not the end of your world to serve mine. It the conjoining of them.”

“I know what being claimed is,” she grumbled mulishly.

“Explain what you’ve been taught,” he suggested. “In the school.”

“It’s being owned by an Alpha. For… you know… Diluting the bloodline.” Her hands tightened on his. “Humans only get claimed to… make babies. And -… And to get turned into slaves.”

“Hm.” It was such a simple noise to express the complete incredulity he was clearly experiencing. “Right. Well. That’s sufficiently monstrous, I suppose. But that’s not necessarily what you’ve understood from being claimed, is it?”

_I understand fear_, seemed like the wrong answer. He was calm and she wanted to keep him that way, and something about that single word would set him off like a rocket. So instead of that impulsive truth, she told him the things she had noticed.

Hesitating, she considered her next words carefully. Honest, but not too honest, she decided it was safest to say: “I’ve…developed… the part of me that’s…wolfy?”

“Your instincts, and how you use them,” he agreed. “Tell me: what do you know about pack?”

“It’s like family,” she uttered, and cast a look at him from under her lashes.

“Of the highest order. Pack is family by choice, made by blood and bite. I’ve claimed many over the years, taken them into my den and under my wing. No one unwilling. No one who shied from it.”

She shuttered her lashes, looked at the leather bands around his throat.

“Maybe not to your face,” she challenged roughly. When he didn’t reply, she pressed her luck: “Why did you take me?”

“I wish I knew,” he said evenly. “Let me be very clear, love. I had never expected to make a prisoner of you. I _never_ intended to have you persistently frightened and kept. You are my pack; bound of my blood. I’m supposed to do right by you.”

“Because I’ll be good for the pack?”

“Because you’ll be good for the pack.” He bowed his head to her. “Alphas claim those who will serve-… Who will become integral to the structure of the pack in a way that it is lacking. Be it through formerly developed affection and conscious choice, or something unknown and driven by instinct on a run. You, of course, were the latter – the full moon did much to dull what critical thinking I am capable of in form of the wolf. I only knew that you were good.”

“What could I _ever_ do that would serve your pack?” she asked him. “I’m in high school, I don’t have any money, I don’t have any freakishly cool skills or contacts, and I have no idea about wolf politics, and you even said I don’t have instincts like you. So if this whole thing isn’t about - sex, or _whatever_ – then what was it about me?”

Pursing his lips in thought, he considered her face. She felt studied, but not maliciously.

“If I’m ever certain, I’ll tell you. But I don’t know. None of my other claims have been like this. I have claimed on a run before, yes, but the people on the other end of it were willing and had something to offer readily. I thought – given everything that a claim entails – that you would understand what we were. That you would grow to have affection for me.” He waved his hand airily. “Isaac and Marcel did.”

“Marcel?” she repeated, staring at him boldly. “Wait… you’ve claimed Isaac _and_ Marcel?”

“Yes.”

Her mouth popped open.

“What about Camille?”

“Not yet.”

“But – they’re vampires!”

“Yes, and you’re a human.” He apparently sensed that she needed further explaining, and gave her a small smile that made her stomach feel funny. “Like you, Marcellus very quickly honed his talents. His abilities are not far shy of a hybrid’s, actually. That’s what makes him so popular in these parts. He understands most people and their motives - besides the fact he’s _insufferably _charming.”

“Wait, wait, I don’t get it,” she said bluntly. “Back up. How can a _vampire _be in a pack with a _werewolf_? Aren’t you guys-? I thought there was like, a huge class divide? Mortal enemies, kind of thing?”

“Oh, there is for the regular folk. No one likes the threat of being killed, and there’s sureness in the death of a vampire bitten by werewolf teeth for everyone who isn’t _me_.” Smug, he gave her a little grin. “That goes without saying, if there’s been another vampire taken into a pack in the last two hundred-odd years, I’ve never heard about it.”

“So pack isn’t solely for wolves,” she said thoughtfully.

“That is why there is such a thing as to be claimed, love,” he encouraged patiently. “So an Alpha can take in those who aren’t of the blood. We can claim other wolves, but there’s no point when they can simply become pack. That way an Alpha can still assemble the strongest possible family.”

_We’re family_, drifted in and out of her head. It lingered like an echo. She wasn’t sure if it was a threat. _He sees us as a family?_

“Isaac…” she said slowly, stringing her mess of thoughts together. “Was a human in the next town over. He said you saved him from his father.”

“Ah yes. Lahey senior.” His eyes went hard. A puff of spicy fury stabbed her sinuses. “The circumstances of Isaac’s coming here were-… not kind.”

“Did you claim him before he was turned into a wolf?”

Klaus nodded.

“You could speak to Isaac about it. When he was human and claimed as mine,” he said faintly. His lamp like eyes refocused on her. He blinked away the traces of whatever memory lane he had been mentally strolling down, but the lingering scent of metal on the air let her know that it was of the bloody variety. “He may be able to explain how things were, from his side. It was rather different to yours, you understand, because he wanted to be here.”

“Also because he didn’t stay human,” Caroline murmured.

“Yes,” Klaus said, without so much as a touch of remorse. “Because the living trash pile that was his father demanded that his human son be returned to his keep, and the authorities are always looking for ways to undermine me. Isaac didn’t want to go, and he is one of mine, so I made it so he would not be taken. The law is so easily navigated by the man who helped write it. I turned him to keep him, yes. But I was keeping someone who wanted to be kept.”

Caroline remembered the casual way Isaac mentioned being beaten up and locked in a freezer by his father. He’d never seemed the type, in the glances she had got at him from matches at school. But what did a person look like on the outside, when they were faced with that kind of trauma? She hadn’t seen the vile touches in his father, and he’d been a prevailing and popular coach.

“I’d like to talk to Isaac, maybe,” she said quietly. “About what he went through. If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll call him after school,” he informed her. “I’m glad you’ll speak to him. He’s worried about you.”

“Why?” Screwing up her face, she scowled at him. “He doesn’t even know me.”

“He doesn’t have to know you to feel your fear. He’s your pack, love. Our blood is shared.” He tilted his head. “When one of us hurts, so too do the others. When one of us is in agony, or keening, when we are scared, or hateful – all the pack echoes with the torment. We assemble to assist, and share the burden.”

There was a lot of information to adjust in her head. She wanted to disagree, because she’d never sensed anything from anyone else the way he was explaining things to her. If she was supposed to be a part of the whole ‘sharing emotions through blood’ thing, why didn’t she feel Isaac’s? Or Marcel’s?

“Is Marcel’s version of wolfy-ness different because he’s a vampire?” she wondered.

“A little,” he agreed. “Marcel is better versed in werewolf behaviors by virtue of the fact that I raised him.”

Her mouth popped open.

“You _what_?”

“I raised Marcellus as my own.” A wry smile touched his mouth. “At the time in history he was born, you understand, he was being ill-treated. The ones who had charge of him as a child hadn’t given him the dignity of so much as a name. You may have guessed by now that boys being beaten at the hands of their fathers is somewhat a sore subject for me.”

There was something funny happening in her chest. A glowing, warm, wobbly feeling. She had seen Marcel and his beautiful smile, and she had seen the easy, adoring way he had handled Klaus. She had understood when he’d been abducted that Klaus was protective of him… but to hear Klaus speak of him with such a soft look on his face, and to think of him protecting the little boy that once was?

It did _things_. She resolved to inspect them closer at a later stage.

“Do you always interfere?” she asked him quietly. “When you hear that things like that are happening?”

“Always,” he agreed mildly. “I lost count of all the times I wished for someone to intervene for me.”

In her school books, it had been mentioned that a large part of Klaus’ violent personality and God-complex were based on early childhood trauma. She had read descriptions of the beatings he was likely to have suffered – what was in vogue at the time, and what had been reported. It had made her skin crawl to think about people being so cruel to their children, and for people to suffer. She hadn’t allowed Klaus the excuse even as she read it, because it had been coupled with the many designs of torture he had conceived in his time.

“But _that _is ancient history,” he quipped. He sipped his coffee to hide his face, but she’d already seen the insecurity for what it was.

“Hey,” she said suddenly. “Did Isaac-? When you claimed him-…?” She waved her hand in a circle as if to prompt his train of thought, but he just arched a brow.

“What?”

“Did he-? You know. When we were-… Touchy?”

“He went through something similar, yes. Everyone does.”

“But was it-? Sexy?”

“He’s a teenager with a working shaft,” he said dryly. “Of course it was. A ripe peach is sexy to him in the right light.”

Despite the whole, unsure of what was happening, business, Caroline laughed. It filled her chest with such a welcome release, she laughed again, doing nothing to dampen it. Even when Klaus was chuckling beside her, she didn’t mind – there had been no doubt in her mind, only that morning, she wouldn’t ever laugh authentically again.

“If there’s a story, I don’t want to know,” she quipped.

“Then I shan’t tell you.”

She snorted into her mug, squeezing her eyes shut at the lighthearted jab. Still giggly, she had to wait for a minute before she could get a decent sip of her coffee down – her brain was googling the image of a sexy peach without her explicitly wanting to know.

“Anyway,” she giggled. “You were talking about emotions or something?”

“Yeah,” he beamed proudly at her face. “Because I am the source of the blood that binds, I feel it all. So when you’re frightened, and Isaac is so worried about you, it is a hellscape of my own making.”

“What about Marcel?” she prompted.

“What of him?”

“He doesn’t feel these things like we do, right?”

“Not quite. To that end I do not experience his feelings the same way I feel yours. That would be the impact of his vampire blood. Should I have his heightened emotions, and my own, and the rest of the pack – I’d be madder than I already claim to be. You seem-... Different." He narrowed his eyes at her in curiosity.

"Different how?" she blinked.

"Better." His gaze traveled her face the way he might read a book, and she felt completely scrutinized under the intensity of the look. "Does the world seem a little brighter to you now?”

“Like,” she said slowly. “Yeah? I mean, it’s also way more complicated. But… It’s a little less suicide central in my head, so. Brighter. Yeah.”

He flinched when she mentioned her darker trains of thought. At the opening of his mouth, she guessed he was about to say something that might make her want to fight him - he had that 'I didn't do anything wrong here' look about him that made her temper spike. So she popped up from her chair and interrupted him before he could insert his stupid foot into his idiot mouth and ruin the good thing they had going. 

“Can you make a new pot of coffee? And I think we should get something for a late lunch but I don’t want anything heavy – no pasta. I’m gonna go wash my face. And then you and I are gonna make a list about what settling the claim _actually_ looks like, and we’re gonna get it done by the end of the week.” Her shoulders squared, and she confidently nodded, like that was the be all and end all of the conversation.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And then I can go home.”

“I’ll take you to the gate myself.”

“And this is not a gross, rapey, slave thing?” she clarified.

"No, love. The way I feel about you is not gross, rapey, or inclined to make a slave of you," he drawled. 

Well that part she found a _little_ hard to believe.

Everything sexual between them had been – mild, for the most part. Any time it had ramped up into the world of too much, she had told him _no_, and he had stopped. Except for that one time she had been totally zen with taking it further than she had been before – when Cami had interrupted, Caroline had been kinda chill with going all the way.

“Uh huh," she said. "Just so we are one hundred per cent clear - I’m not gonna be-… kept, forever?”

“I don’t think there’s any keeping you anywhere you don’t want to be,” he reasoned. “Had I been any less suspicious of you, there’s every chance you would’ve found a way to go. You'll always be one of the people I call mine, love, but you won't have to live here to make it so.”

“So we just settle the claim,” she decided. “Then you’ll be safe, and I can go home. Is there any other sneaky little wolf-things you’re not telling me about?”

“Not that I know of, but then I was the one that overestimated your knowledge on the subject. If you are alarmed by any behaviors, you need to tell me what it is you think it means.” He gave her a coy smile. "Are you happy now?"

"Happier," she said simply. With a bounce in her step she headed to the downstairs bathroom, feeling clean and fresh and new. She had a plan. She had an easy road out. A light at the end of a tunnel; something tangible to hold on to.

All they had to do now was figure out how they were gonna settle this claim, and then she would be _free_.

But it remained in the very corner of her excited stride that this was a _lie_. The niggling thought reminded her that he was a master tactician with a thousand years of experience; Klaus might just know exactly what needed to be said to make her behave. She remembered to treat him as an enemy that would be her means to an end, to proceed with caution. He could say all the pretty things he wanted, but until she was home with her mom, she would pretend like he was the Big Bad Wolf ready to gobble her up.

Just in case he was.


	22. The List

  * Quota of touch
  * Healthy food intake
  * Den time
  * Gift accepting/requesting

“It’s not that bad,” Caroline commented with a frown. She cut her eyes to the lounging Alpha, narrowing them in suspicion at his lackluster hum of agreement. “What are you not telling me?”

“I'm not keeping anything from you. That’s covering all the basics. This’ll do everything to soothe the wolf, and mark you as well-looked after, and one of mine.” He cocked his head at her insistent study, raising a brow. “And yet... You don’t believe me.”

“No. Everything before this was so fucking sinister,” she said bluntly, giving him a Look up and down before returning to reading over the list. It was just... so little. She'd expected like, a page full of things to suffer through. “But it turns out all you had to do was explain that there was a point that I could go home if we just got this stuff done, and it’s not even bad.”

“It may surprise you,” he drawled. “But I’m not exactly used to explaining my motives. Especially when they’re so intrinsically engraved into what I am.”

“Yeah well, I’m not used to werewolf milestones,” she retorted. "And you are kind of intense and that's terrifying, just FYI."

"I've been told," he said mildly. 

Like, wow. Everything he had been doing was in one of the four categories in front of her. It was all in the name of clearing off items on the list of this stupid claim thing. 

Now she had the guidelines, it was time to implement the rules. Caroline loved rules.

“Okay, so with touching, what happens if I don’t want it to be sexy?”

“Then say so, and I won’t eventuate it into the realm of sex,” he commented. “You’ve been vocal before.”

“Yeah, and we’ve ended up raunchy before anyway,” she reminded him pointedly.

“That was at your insistence, not mine.”

“You bit me when I wouldn’t kiss you, that one time,” she said flatly. “In the den. You said I was playing games with your affections.”

“Because you were,” he scoffed. “You wanted me to be made pliant to your touch enough that I would agree to your request. When I wouldn’t give it, you stopped.”

“I stopped because there is a difference between wanting to kiss you, and realizing how wrong it is that I want to kiss you. Sometimes that line gets crossed mid-make out. Sometimes I wake up and _things_ are happening. Not everything's about you.“ Her blood throbbed hotly as her heart gave a wayward bang. A little dribble of fear reminded her to try and be gentle, even though her greater personality was nearly in riot mode. To try and soften the blow of her honesty, she phrased the problem in a different way. "Try and think about what that’s like to be stolen, and then feel like you wanna make out with the guy that stole you."

"Confusing," he murmured. "But I wasn't the one that stole you, if we're being pedantic."

"I'm always pedantic," she replied. "And also, Tanner got me over the Wall, but you were the one that kept me here. Just so we're clear."

"Crystal," he drawled. "I'm awful, you hate me, and you don't want to touch me at all. I understand."

"Understand?" she said, pitchy. "Does that mean you'd be on board if I said you weren't allowed to touch me at all?"

"God no," he said flatly. "I draw the line at no contact at all, Caroline. But how you want that contact is up to you." He bowed his head at the list. "Those things will all need to be done if you want to be claimed faster."

Eyuck. _Claimed_. Gross.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a sniff.

"It's not that easy," she declared. "We have - history, now, and there are things - like, how am I supposed to reconcile everything that's happened and just - cuddle buddy the rest of the week away?"

"Lean into it," he suggested. As if that were so easy! "The bind of our blood already calmed your human brain, even in the height of your distress. Now that we understand each other, I expect we'll be able to become much more familiar, and much quicker than before."

"Well I don't want to feel all of my feels, all at once in my crotch." At his snicker, she pursed her lips and scowled at him. "Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not funny,” he said, still chuckling. “But explaining it like _that_ is. You millennials have a right way with words-"

"Oh, do not _even_." Swatting at him with her paper, she badly repressed her own silly grin. He was especially cute when he was smiling. She was pretty sure it had everything to do with the dimple.

"I'm not doing a thing," he cooed.

She made a dramatic put out noise and perused the page, eyes drifting over each listed thing. All the demands to be touched, all the times he had snapped at her to eat. The fact that he had a giant king sized bed upstairs but persistently slept in the den. Trying to buy her pretty clothes, trying to offer her things. It was all Alpha BS, of course, but if she had’ve known she was going to go home quicker for having given in to it all, she would’ve just _done it_.

“You can watch me eat, but I still don’t like breakfast,” she said. “Also if you’re going to scrutinize every time I chew something, you’re gonna put me off.”

“I’ll be discreet,” he allowed. “I would suggest that in a few days, when things like distance start to become a little easier to handle, you can sit across from me. That way it won’t be as apparent.”

Perking up, her eyebrows raised at him.

“A few days? Do you think it’ll be that fast?”

“I feel a change between us even now, so most likely before the end of the week, and you'll be home.”

Humming in thought, she envisioned the two of the sitting across from each other at the dining room table. They were talking quietly, plates mostly empty. She was smiling – he was nodding to something she had suggested. Then she got up, kissed his cheek, grabbed her keys, and drove home to her mom - unmolested, and free.

Easy.

“Well, I like the den,” she said mildly. “So that isn’t a problem.”

“It’s been a blessing that you do,” he admitted. “It keeps your scent marked with a touch of me in it. It’s soothing.”

“Is the den a scent mark thing?”

"Naturally. It's not as much as I’d like to have you marked, of course, but enough to call it noticeable.”

“Is that why Isaac doesn’t like to smell me?”

“No, Isaac is smelling the bare minimum of a warning. There’s a reason I’ve not had a need to lock the front door, love. No werewolf in a mile will want to go near you. They put up a road block at this side of the town just yesterday to prevent all the people having accidents trying to turn their cars around on these narrow roads. Isaac thought it was hilarious until he realized he had to drive through them.”

“Oh.” Twisting her mouth, she considered the page. “What about this thing with the gifts?”

“What about it? I told you I wanted to spoil you.”

“Yeah, but how is that a wolf thing? Or is this a Klaus thing dressed up like a wolf thing?”

“It’s a Klaus thing,” he agreed impishly. “But moreover _because_ it’s a wolf thing. Giving gifts and having you made happier for it is considered providing for the pack. It’s equal parts animal and human; looking after your emotional health, and all that. You can imagine why that part is a slight bit more pressing than the rest, given the state you’ve been in since I caught you.”

Humming, she looked at the words on the page, trying to steer her thoughts down a linear track. As it was, all she could think about was the time he’d mentioned he had more money than she could even imagine, and now he was offering to spend it on her. Ideas, visions, possibilities flooded her mind.

“What’s my budget?”

“You don’t have one.”

“Come on.” She looked at him. When he shrugged one shoulder, blasé to the idea of her spending his funds, she arched a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. There isn’t anything you could ask for that I wouldn’t readily give you.”

“But there has to be like, a limit.”

“No.” Seeing her hesitation, he tilted his head in thought. “Are you guilty about the price of something you want?”

“Kinda?” she said, chewing on her lip.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.” She did. At his arched brow, she rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’ve got ideas, but I don’t know what you want me to ask _for_. If you want something that I like, or if it’s something that I’ve always wanted, or just something that would make me happy, or if it’s something to wear, or-… I don’t know. I need more to go on, here.”

Eyes on her face, he leaned forward until his elbows were on his knees. His hands dangled loosely, close enough that if he just stretched out his pointer finger he would be able to brush it against her knee cap. Even though she watched, and waited, the touch never came. It made her feel... kinda on edge. Why wasn't he touching her?

And why was that upsetting?

“Ask for whatever you want,” he encouraged. “Food, clothes, beautiful things. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” she repeated in thought. Then shook her head like a wet dog, dragging her eyes from his hands up to his face. That too, was a little too much to handle, so she looked back at her list. “No, no, no. First of all, none of that looked like a budget-“

“You don’t need a budget.”

“And secondly, I can’t just ask for – things.” Clearing her throat, she tried to behave like someone who wasn't very interested in the idea of spending exorbitant amounts of money. So what if she was thinking about a classic black Prada purse worth like, two and a half year allowance? It was a nice thought. She was entitled to think about nice things! "My mom did not raise me to be like that, so. Sorry, not sorry."

“But I want to spoil you,” he said, rather seriously. Finding her eyes drawn to the devilish smile on his face. her heart fluttered funnily in her chest. Had he ever smiled before today? “Consider it something of emotional damages. If buying you things brings you some measure of comfort, there is no amount I wouldn’t spend gladly.”

“But it’s your money,” she protested.

“I’ve got more than I know what to do with, and more than you could spend for the rest of your days,” he promised her smugly. “Try and shock me. I_ dare you_.”

Well...

She’d always been a sucker for a dare.

”A purse?” She hesitated. “Prada?”

He scoffed.   
  


“That’s an insultingly easy ask, Caroline. Do give me something exciting to work with.”

“I guess... I like fireworks,” she told him sheepishly. It was the most outlandish thing she could think of unprompted. “I haven’t seen any in ages. I missed last fourth of July.”

“That's child's play," he quipped. "Think bigger, love. Be bold."

“I-... I want… a house in my name." When he rolled his eyes, unimpressed, it spurred her into adding a quick: "But a fancy house! With-! Big bathrooms! And a pool! And – a big, fancy spiral staircase. And a Jacuzzi. And-! I want a- proper theater room with like... cinema seating and lights!”

“In Mystic Falls?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“Do you want to pick it?”

“Surprise me,” she said, more simply than she felt.

“I will,” he cooed. He was so fucking pleased with himself. "What else?"

“I want…" Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it bounce in her chest. The excited tumble of thoughts in her mind spun faster and faster as more possibilities came to her mind's eye. What was something left of field? What could possibly trip him up? "I want to wear something that Marilyn Monroe had! I want one of her necklaces. No wait! Diamonds. Earrings. Something… super gorgeous and extra.”

“I’ve got a collector that could use the work,” he assured her. "Anything else? What about something that'd make you happy, in this house? What would put you at ease, that I can buy and have here by tomorrow?"

She looked around for inspiration, trying to summon an idea of what might do it. But this one, unlike the others, was tricky. What would make her happy would be to go home, but that was already in the pipeline. Why was it such a hardship? Yesterday she could’ve said she’d like to die. The day before she would’ve liked an attempt to get out. The day before she had been craving a decent shower. Before that, she’d wanted a bra. And now… There wasn't anything he could buy her that would make her happier.

Now she was pretty content, actually.

“I’m happy,” she concluded, looking at him in surprise. “I don’t really need anything else to make me happy. I’m okay.”

Relief had a flavor that made Caroline think of perfume. It was a pretty, pleasant, fragrant response. Being able to look at him showed her the release of the tension in his face – she hadn’t realized he had been tight around the eyes and forehead until he wasn’t.

Blowing out a breath, she rolled her head on her neck and cracked it twice, feeling her own body start to wind down. Her body leaned to cross the distance between them, hands landing on his cheeks to frame his face in the cup of her palms, causing his eyes to bloom with yellow. Before she could open her mouth to ask if he was sure that all those high ticket items were what would help them get it over with, he'd pressed his lips to the inside of her palm and sent a scorching wave of heat down to her crotch. Her eyes focused on his lips and then she sort of...

Pounced, a little bit.

All legs and arms, teeth and tongue, she swung her leg over his hips and attempted to kiss the Original stupid. He caught her too easily and lurched forward to pin her to the wall, hands digging into her ass and thighs, kneading at her quivering muscles.

Caroline groaned loudly, and managed to drag her mouth to his neck. Something in her just - needed him closer. Her skin was crawling to feel his; eager hands peeled the shoulder of his shirt away and sucked on the tattoo of birds she found. He tasted like electricity.

"Let me spoil you," he said heatedly, urging her face up with his hand. He caught her chin and sucked on her lower lip. "We could be like this always, if you just _let_ me."

She knocked his hand away so she could kiss him again, grabbing his face in both hands.

"Naked," she said into his mouth. "Now. Get naked."

He barked a laugh.

"Not a joke," she warned him. "We're doing it. Take off your pants."

The grinning Alpha kissed her soundly and took both her hands to pin them above her head with a single one of his, the free one squeezing just under her thigh. Her body arched, thighs grating against the bony rise of his hips. She groaned even more loudly than before and squirmed, trying to catch his wandering mouth with her own.

"Klaus," she said, squirming. "Come_ on_."

"Take a breath," he advised, and kissed the throbbing pulse in her throat. It wasn’t enough. "Breathe, love. Think about what you're saying."

She didn't want to, but like, he wasn't taking his clothes off. It made her think.

"Why don't you want me?"

"I want you. Never doubt I want you. But you don't want this to happen here, like this," he said slowly. "It's only that you accepted. It’s the claim manifesting. What you're doing now... It's animal."

"No," she said. "I'm not that. I'm not-"

"You are," he murmured. "Oh, sweetheart, you're more animal than you know. Breathe. Think. Take a minute."

"One minute, and then if I still want you to have sex with me, will you?"

"I might," he cautioned, and kissed her sweetly. Barely brushing his lips against hers felt like an insult, and she really considered nibbling on his lip to try and get a rise out of him, but at the end of that meager, innocent little kiss... she no longer wanted him so desperately.

She lifted her head and thunked it on the wall, breathing hard through her mouth.

"What?" She panted. "The hell?"

"Better?" he mused.

"I guess?"

"Little less like you're about to corrupt my innocence?"

She shrugged.

"Is-?" She looked at him from under her lashes. "Is it like that for you? Wanting to... do that, with me?"

He sighed.

"All the time."

Her eyes shut. _Jesus._

"Den," she decided. Because words couldn't explain how unfair it was. She'd only just gotten a bare taste of how mindless the wanting could be... and he had still curbed the behavior before it had gotten out of hand.

"What about lunch?" he muttered.

"Later," she instructed, linking her ankles behind his back. "I promise I’ll eat later. But I need you to be with me in the den. Now."

As though she had just revealed the meaning of life to him, he nodded slowly and tilted his head back with his lips pursed, asking without words for a kiss. And she, without missing a single beat, gave him one, slow and languid, feeling him breathe between her caging thighs.

"Alright," he said, a little stupidly, carrying her to the den. "We can lay down for a little while, if you want."

“I wanted a little more of _that_,” she muttered, too close to his ear to miss the sprinkle of goosebumps rising on his neck. “But if you’re going to be the sensible good-guy, or whatever, go ahead.”

“Not something I’m regularly accused of, that,” he murmured. “Can’t say I mind it from your mouth.”

She didn’t mind it too much either.


	23. The Ring

Caroline was surprised that she woke to Klaus' voice, only because it wasn't addressing her. He was spooned around her from behind, a band of cold around her waist where his arm must've been moments earlier.

"I can't," he murmured. "I'm busy."

She heard a female voice in the background. It wasn't Cami - Cami didn't have a British accent.

"Bekah. I can't ‘hurry up’, it's a delicate process... I beg your _pardon_, I can be delicate when I'm correctly motivated. No, nothing like that. It's a wolf affair."

A pause. Some shouting. Caroline inched away from him, and he let her get up, rolling onto his back.

"Well that isn't my problem."

The voice raised in volume, becoming demanding, which Caroline could still hear as she made her way to the mouth of the den.

"Like hell," he warned through his teeth. More shouting. "If you come here, I'll kill you, and the boy. I mean it. Take him to Elijah. No I’m not talking – Rebekah. I am not talking to him. I haven’t in over a decade. _You _talk to him."

Continuing down the hall to the bathroom, she blearily opened and shut the door before going to the toilet. She finished, washed her hands and rinsed her mouth with cold water to get rid of some of the nasty morning breath, then padded out into the hall.

Instinct made her body stiff, because Klaus was at the other end of it, being very still. It was unlike him. He was looking at an open cardboard box in his hands, and the scent around him was... a lot.

She couldn't begin to describe the individual notes, but the overall smell of him was wholly _Alpha_. Part of her wanted to back up into the bathroom to hide, but it was quickly thwarted by the idea of being so trapped in that tiny space. Her feet began to take her backwards but the look that Klaus shot her made her halt.

"Your ring is here," he said. His eyes were yellow, glowing, as he watched her consider him with her hands put up between them. "Why are you backing away?"

"I don't know," she admitted, because that was at least the truth. "Something super Alpha is going on with you right now. It usually doesn't end well for me."

"It's nothing bad," he muttered, blinking only once. "You should put it on. Let's see if it fits."

"Put what on?" Her foot landed one extra step back, attracting his glowing gaze.

"Your ring." He squared to her, dropping the empty delivery box by his foot without thinking. He inhaled deep, eyes blurring with gold and black, and dipped his fingers inside the blue velvet to tug it open. "Come here. Come put it on."

"I don't know..." Hesitating, Caroline tucked her wayward hair behind her ears and felt her hands shaking. "Uhm, maybe I can just try it on later?"

"Now," he said softly. There was a weighty pause between them - her, suddenly nervous, and him, very mindful of it. Still, he insisted: "Caroline, it’s a gift, and it needs to be received. You don’t have to wear it all day. Just try it on for a minute.”

Well, the whole _still _and _unblinking_ thing was truly unsettling, so what choice did she have? Her head bowed, and she shrugged a shoulder at no one and nothing. She had agreed to the accepting of gifts, after all. But she had forgotten about the damn ring at the time. Would he really let her take it off later?

When her slow feet had taken her to his sphere, she hopefully presented her right hand - but at his incredulous look, swapped them.

He opened the box and gazed at the band for a long moment before he plucked it and held it between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her hand to slide the ring on her finger.

Just shy of perfect.

"It's a little loose," he noticed. He held all of her fingers, just staring at the gleam of the diamond, before bringing it up to his mouth for a soft kiss. "But I find it very soothing."

"Soothing?" she whispered. Wasn't sure why, but the voice out of her throat was one of reverence. Her head was swimming, eyes focused on the way the Alpha held her fingers in his own. Like she was made of glass, or something to be cherished. It was immensely addictive to her innermost phobias of going unwanted, feeling how badly he wanted to have her near. "You think it's... soothing?"

"Mm." He wet his lip. "Having you out of that collar spat in my face."

"I didn't mean to." She kinda had at the time.

"No, you wouldn't possibly know what it meant outside of how belittled you were to wear it. No matter now. This suits you better." He cupped her hand around his cheek, his palm closing over it with a dreamy look at her from under his lashes. He rubbed his prickles against her palm like a cat, and made her crack a smile that he returned readily. "I like that you like it."

"Yeah. I do," she admitted. When she twinkled her fingers, the light bounced off the intricately cut diamond, and the little sapphires on either side. It was very,_ very_ pretty, even though it was simple and a little on the smaller side for a wedding band. Not exactly what she would’ve wanted for her own, but if Tyler had proposed with it she wouldn’t have been upset.

Burying his face against her throat, Klaus gathered her in his arms and gave her a lingering squeeze that made her sigh. Her eyes were stuck to the diamond on her finger as she held it up over his shoulder, utterly entranced by the look of it.

"I should've never made you wear the bloody collar.” He wuffed, tightening his arms around her a fraction. “_Fuck._ The scent of you accepting me, Caroline... I could bask in it forever."

"Bask," she offered, and shut her eyes. It wasn't so heinous. There was something about him she needed, too, and so she let her drowsy body go lax as he breathed heavily against her throat. It felt nice. Tingly. "Who was on the phone?"

"My sister."

"What did she want?"

"For me to sign off on letting her current bloodbag out of the country." He hummed. "Doesn't matter. I don't think he'll last. They usually don't, when she's got her fangs in them."

"Ew," Caroline said quietly, and found her hand threading through his hair. The other lifted again so she could see the ring sitting prettily on her wedding finger, looking like it had been there forever. What did it mean, that she liked the look of it? Was she actually sick? Or just insane? Or did she just have really good hands for wedding rings?

"I love the ring," he said on a breath. He kissed her ear. "Hm. I love the way you feel when you're wearing it."

"I feel adored," she whispered. She gently steered his heavy head up by the handful of hair she had claimed in her hand, and kissed him slow and soft until her lazy brain demanded that she turn her face to breathe. Her eyes landed on the diamond again. "I _love _the ring."

* * *

Several hours after they had gone to bed for the night, Caroline woke up and found herself boiling in between his arms, sweating through the pretty shorts and camisole he'd picked out for her.

"You're making me too hot," she whispered.

He grunted and didn't let go, eyes shut.

"Klaus."

He didn't budge.

"Klaus, I'm _boiling_."

"I'm sleeping," he retorted.

"_Klaus_," she whined, and struggled a little.

"Shush."

"Don't _shush_ me!" She meant to shove him hard in the side, but what actually happened was she slid her hand over his belly and up to the firm musculature of his pec. She licked her lips and put her leg over him, then eased up to sit astride his waist.

He was wiiiiiide awake by the time she took a seat, pride of place, on his belly.

"I'm too hot," she told him, blinking sleepily and innocently down at him.

"I’ll get a fan installed," he suggested thickly.

Like, that was great. But it didn’t help her in that actual moment. She licked her lips, tasting salt from her overheated cupid's bow. Considering how hot she was, getting her clothes off seemed like an A+ idea.

She slid her camisole off and clasped an arm over her chest self-consciously as his eyes focused on her breasts. She had a nice figure, honed through cheering and sporadic cleaning episodes, but her breasts made her feel a little boyish.

She swallowed, wondering how many bigger and better boobs he must've seen, in his thousand years.

"Catch up," she implored softly.

He sat up and wrestled his shirt off over his head, winding his arms around her comfortably once the shirt was flung into the recesses of the den. He pressed a scratchy kiss onto her shoulder and she wriggled her arm out to dump her top beside them, molding her front against his.

Her nails lightly traced up the hot skin of his spine, until her hands twirled in his hair. She steered his face up to hers boldly, unable to think when he was pressing such worshipping kisses against her bare body.

"Why do I want you like this?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Because you're all animal when you're with me," he replied gently, dragging his mouth up over her throat. She lolled her head back to give him room to mouth around the pillar of her neck, and tightened her thighs around his hips. "And your animal heart cries out for the pack you know you want."

"But why like this?" she said, and clutched his hair in both hands. She tilted herself to be looking at him, but being so close, so intimate, made her kiss his waiting mouth. After a few long, drawn kisses, she sighed. "Why do I want you like _this_?"

He kissed her in reply, let her groan into his mouth and dragged his kind nails over the length of her back. She rocked forward on him and his fingers dug into her ass to move her closer, squeezing a cheek in each hand.

"Is it a trick?" she asked the ceiling on a breath.

"Does it feel like a trick?"

She gasped a _no_ and broke the kiss when she knocked against something that sent a woosh of tingles up her core, and tasted his raunchy smile first hand when she dived back in to make embarrassing noises against his open mouth.

"Don't laugh," she scolded.

"I'm not laughing," he said with a ridiculous grin. "Trust me, love. I'm not laughing at you. Not for this."

Her hands wondered over his shoulders and then more bravely over his pecs. She felt him move to kiss her throat again and let him, shutting her eyes as he moved his head lower on her chest.

He plucked one nipple into his mouth and gave a light pull with his teeth, which caused her body to rock right against him. She groaned again, louder this time, and arched her back to ask without words that he do it again.

"Caroline?" he asked the valley of her breasts.

"Uh huh?" she said, dazed. She sat up a little, blinking away the lustful blur from her eyes, to think what that might mean for her, when she was half naked and riling him up.

"I'll take care of you. I won't go further than you allow. I swear."

She nodded dumbly. What was she supposed to do? Disagree? She wanted him too earnestly to put up a fight to preserve… her morals. Because that was pretty much the only reason she had hesitation in that exact moment. But who would ever know? Who would ever blame her, if it happened to come up in conversation?

_Oh yeah, I totally screwed the Hybrid_, she imagined herself saying at a fancy party, charging a champagne flute._ What? I was his captive, kinda. No, completely willing. Yes, I enjoyed the whole thing thoroughly, thank you for asking. More canapés, anyone?_

"You're thinking too much," he told her.

"Do something about it," she dared him.

He flipped them around and sucked on her neglected breast, the barest hint of teeth flashing across the sensitive outside of her areola. She opened her legs for him and dug her heels into the bedspread, arching to try and have more of his body on her.

He left a blinding hot trail of damp kisses and tiny nips down her body, digging slightly harder teeth into her hip. It was such a sharp contrast she made a desperate noise, hands in his hair pulling up.

"Be nice," she muttered at him.

He kissed her hip in apology.

"Caroline..." he said roughly, looking up at her with his chin on her belly. His eyes moved to her heaving chest and he reached up to roll a nipple between his fingers into a hard peak. "If you are comfortable... if you don't mind... May I pleasure you with my tongue?"

"Uhm," she said, swallowing hard. "I've never - received..."

"Would that be why the boyfriend was a question mark on your file?" he teased.

"No, he tried, I just - I don't know -" she tried weakly. "I don't know what to do with my hands, and if it tastes okay, and then I get so stressed about the smell I just - I've never done that before."

"Well, I have," he assured her, dragging his hand to her neglected breast. "You smell delicious, and I know your taste is divine. I'm rather good at it. If you don't want me to, say so. I'd gladly spend tonight having you bare in my arms, but with your panties being so wet, love, they're going to have to come off regardless."

"Oh, uh," she dallied, propping up on her elbows. She chewed the inside of her lips. "I, um - it's not, exactly a hard _no_, or anything, I - I'm just thinking, I haven't like... I haven't uh, prepared."

"Emotionally?"

"No, I mean like - " she made a gesture. "Grooming."

He cocked a brow.

"Are you worried about hair?" he said blandly.

She squirmed. It was not a good squirm. She was embarrassed.

"If you're going to be a smug dick, I'm going back to my room," she told him hotly.

"Like _hell_ you are."

She dragged herself back half an inch on her hands, making his stubble rasp down her belly, to the waistband of her silky shorts. It was such a tiny barrier, between her lady business and his teeth.

"Are you going to stop me?" she demanded, snatching a blanket to pull quickly over her chest; his eyes tracked the rise of her breathing as though he could see through it. "I'm not just gonna let you get your jollies if you're going to be like that!"

There was an active moment of him calming down, and she felt him bleed the tension through the hiss of breath that slid through his teeth. He softened, and nodded to her, pushing up onto his knees.

"I'm not going to push you," he told her. "Not on this. You can keep the shorts on. You don't have to leave. We've stopped."

She eyed him as well as she could in the dark. His vague outline, the rise of his brow and swell of his mouth. It had been a very good mouth when it was on her. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Like. A thousand years’ worth of screwing around, and she'd hope that he knew what he was doing.

"Do you mean that?" she asked. "You'll stop?"

_What I wouldn't give for a little light, right now,_ she thought, annoyed. _Anything to see your face._

"Of course," he said, and sat heavily on his backside. "I'm a hybrid. Not a monster."

Ah, the monster thing again.

Nair wasn't always a thing, right? Like. Back in his day, the grooming situation would've been like -... Au naturel. So hair was like... not an issue?

A beat passed, and she thought about telling him how wrong he was. But she couldn't make the vicious words come out, not when he was being kind of noble. He wasn't touching her anymore, but the urge to be back under him made itself known pretty loudly in the throb between her legs.

Taking a fortifying breath in, Caroline looked at her knees.

"You don't mind?" she said weakly. "The... hair?"

His hand grazed her bare foot, sweeping up to encircle her ankle. His thumb barely skated over the tender inside of her arch but it was enough to make her offer her leg to him for more kind attention.

"No," he said. "I don't mind. I rather prefer at least some. Hair never bothered anyone I knew until the last hundred odd years."

Determined, she put her other foot by his knee, opening the wet seam of her shorts to him.

"Maybe... you could just... do a little bit?" she whispered.

"Just a little," he repeated, and pulled her back into laying down, settling her foot on the outside of his hip. "I can stop. Just tell me."

"If I don't like it?"

"Especially if you don't like it." He eased her shorts and pretty new underwear down her legs before moving one open to brace over his shoulder, and reached up to palm her breast, tugging on her hard nipples. He bent his head to between her legs, his tongue already out of his mouth.

Caroline's eyes rolled back into her head at the first knowing stroke of his tongue. He located her clit and massaged it side to side before sucking gently. She nearly shut her legs on his head but for the spare hand he had to hold her down, sliding his tongue around the outside of her messy lower lips.

"Klaus," she gasped. "Oh my God, Klaus... I can't - _wait_."

His head came up.

"Shall I stop?" he said roughly.

"No - I just - I just -!" Her heart was banging so hard she could see the skin above her sternum throbbing. She wondered what it was like for him. "I - I'm just - I'm gonna make so much noise-!"

"I want you vocal, love. Nice and loud. No one is around to hear you but me," he murmured. "I want to hear my name out of your throat, when you're in rapture at my hands... and on my tongue."

She released a semi-defeated puff of air, and hid her face with one hand.

"Oh, well if that's all you want," she said, feigning the put-upon tone of her voice. Her head dropped back to the pillow. "Go for your life."

He was incredible. He had her squirming and biting the back of her arm to try and keep her noises locked behind her teeth, but she couldn't help it. Nothing had ever made her feel the way he was making her feel.

_I want to make you feel nice, _echoed in her head. _So nice you never want to leave._

But even knowing that, she didn't want him to stop.

"Klaus," she said, breathless. She writhed, unable to control her limbs as they desperately sought for the inch more that would push her over into oblivion. "God, _Klaus_."

He hummed, and stuck a firm tongue up inside her. But it wasn't enough. She whimpered and reached down for the hand keeping her spread open and grabbed his wrist.

She felt like she couldn't breathe, she was so desperate. But embarrassed too. She didn't_ like _Klaus did she? No, no. This was clearly her vagina talking. And she had loved - still loved... had at least passingly _tolerated_ Tyler? But the hybrid face down in her lady business was gonna make her revisit the concept of god in a minute.

She wanted to ask for more. She wanted to ask for his fingers, too. But was it pushing her luck? Would he take that as a sign that she wanted his cock, too? She squeezed his wrist and hair in her hands.

He twined her fingers with his, and squeezed back.

"Klaus?" she said, urging up his head with her fistful of hair.

He lifted his head like it weighed a ton, and licked the streak of sticky gloss from his mouth. His eyes were all wolf, but he was otherwise entirely human.

"You alright?"

She heaved for breath, and pulled his hand up to press her shaky mouth against one of his knuckles.

"If I ask you for more," she said shakily. "Can you please not have sex with me?"

He nodded dumbly, almost as soon as she'd finished talking.

"Yeah," he said. "Yes. Of course. Whatever you want, darling, whatever you want." He kissed the inside of her thigh and it was so tender and warm she had to lay her head back to hide the new tears that sprang into her eyes.

It wasn't that bad.

He really wasn't that bad.

She could do this, right?

She could be loved like this?

Needed?

For as long as he wanted her?

Why did she even want to get away?

He was so good to her when she played ball. No one worshiped her like he was currently, with his head between her legs and all his sole focus on bringing her pleasure.

Hadn't she always wanted a prince charming?

Who said he had to be human, anyway?

He kissed up her body, hovering for a moment above her.

"What's wrong?" he murmured. He smelt like her sex and she shivered, wrapping her arms around him to bring his delicious heat onto her body. She was so cold when he wasn't touching her. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head, catching his face in both hands, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

_I've never been wanted like this_, whispered the traitor in her mind. _And I don't want to lose it._

"Don't stop," she murmured. "Please don't stop."

"I can continue," he told her, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Later. When you're not crying."

"I can't explain," she told him.

It wasn't a total lie. How could she explain that this experience was the most secure she'd ever been that someone could need her, the way she longed to be needed?

She kissed him again to stop her mouth from offering any of that thought process, and wrapped her leg around his hip.

"Caroline," he said into her mouth.

"Klaus," she replied, and steered his face to deliver a kiss to the high bone of his brow, both lids, and his cheeks. She pressed the longest to his mouth, breathing him, and the taste of herself, in. "Don't stop."

"Tell me what was wrong."

"I was just overwhelmed. I'm fine now."

"I don't want to push," he protested.

"You aren't," she assured him.

He wasn't convinced.

"You don't need to do this," he told her. He received her kiss on his mouth and then continued: "If you aren't sure, we can stop."

"And what about this situation makes you think I want to stop?" she demanded. “You did it with Isaac, don’t be sexist!”

He managed a soft smile. His hand floated up and stroked her hair away from her face. The sheer reverence of the movement made her lashes flutter. She _loved_ being needed.

"You don't need to use your gorgeous body to keep me, love," he told her gently. "I will obey you where you need me to. Tell me if you need me to stop now."

She studied his face. He seemed to be telling the truth as of that exact moment, but as it stood, she couldn't believe him for the future. How was he even thinking about anything other than them, when she couldn't get her body to stop trying to roll against his?

"Klaus," she protested with a dramatic huff. "You spent this entire week trying to get into my pants, and the one time I ask, you're gonna be all dramatic noble hero on me? Come on. Please put your tongue back on my clit or I'm gonna remove a rib and figure out how to do it myself."

He smiled, slow and wicked, and made her heart jolt and the corners of her mouth kick up. He planted a long kiss on her, swirling his tongue around hers leisurely, rumbling happily into the hollow cave of her mouth.

"I will gladly offer my tongue to you, and let you rut against it to find your pleasure," he told her quietly. "You can sit on my face and fuck yourself to completion at your own leisure, if you like."

She liked the sound of it.

"Won't I be heavy?" she mumbled, twirling the curl behind his ear around her finger.

He sucked a kiss against her lip.

"You'll be the perfect Queen on her very own throne."

And, yeah, so maybe _that_ kind of did it for her.

“Get on your back,” she exhaled, delighted by his immediate movement to comply. She straddled his face, braced an inch or so above his waiting seat, and looked down at him. Her hand – the one with the ring – touched his hair, and smoothed over to stroke his face. She wet her lips, searching for something to say to speak of the warmth between them. The trust. The fact that she would kinda miss him when she was gone: that she wished things were different between them. That in another life? Another universe? She would gladly be all his. “I’m so close to you, right now.”

Two yellow globes formed into half circles in his smile. She never actually _saw_ it, because he pulled her down that hesitant inch to make good on the part of the evening where she was pleasured to her heart’s content, but she knew he smiled.


	24. Distractions

After dinner, they watched a movie and scrolled through the iPad to look at houses that were available in Mystic Falls. There were a number of pricey locations Caroline couldn’t say she had ever seen in her life, beyond the iron fences of their gated communities.

When he had a fair idea of what she liked, he locked the iPad and promised to surprise her with something good. Her instant demand for the den was met with yet more resistance to her grabby hands and hungry mouth, but she didn’t mind when he allowed her to cuddle him as much as she liked.

To be completely honest, Caroline didn't remember the dream. She didn't need to. It was always the same thing. She still woke up screaming with fright and clawing at Klaus' arms to bring him closer.

"Shhh," Klaus was saying. He held her tight. He made her feel so _safe_. "Shh, love. You're with me. It's alright. You're alright."

It was Caroline's thirteenth birthday party. Elena and Bonnie had stayed over the night before and Bonnie was digging up chairs out of the basement for when the rest of their friends came over.

Caroline was talking (she didn't remember about what for sure, but it was likely Matt), and Elena wasn't listening. Her eyes had drifted over Caroline's shoulder, a small line indenting between her brows. Caroline followed her line of sight and then the next thing she knew, Elena was missing. As the only witness, it was devastating not knowing what actually happened.

She sobbed, clutching Klaus for dear life. She tightened her arms around him until she had pulled herself off the mattress and onto his lap, and somehow she still wasn't close enough.

Klaus stroked the hair away from her wet face and arranged her so she wasn't sitting on his bony knees. He sat with her like that for a long time, in the darkness, just keeping her held tightly to him and letting her weep bitterly all over his shoulder.

He was, to all intents and purposes, perfect. Which was so beyond annoying. If he asked her, she might unravel something that she was trying to keep under lock and key. He really didn’t need to know all of her trauma, right? Like, some things were allowed to be her own.

Maybe something in her scent changed at that jarring little thought, because he eased her away and stroked her face.

"Tell me," he urged softly.

She sucked back an awfully solid wad of snot and shook her head.

"Caroline."

She tried to hide her face against his shoulder again, but he gently barred her escape with his hands on her biceps, warm and comforting. 

"Tell me," he said again. "Tell me what you dreamt. Can I fix it?"

How could she explain? Her friend had been kidnapped on her birthday and the memories were all gone? It _had _to have been a vampire. But no vampires could cross the wall without permission - and no one had come from their side in _years_! Except, of course, Tanner… The entire point of having the wall was so that the humans were kept safe within the confines, like a house around their houses. But vampires could still breech it!

She knew it was a vampire. Her memory had been tampered with.

Many psychologists over many years had told her that it _couldn't_ have been a vampire, and listed all the ways that she was wrong. The main argument was that being present at the loss of her friend had caused a guilt so powerful that Caroline struck the image of it from her brain. Obviously not deep enough, because every now and then - usually at the height of her stresses - she would dream the terrible dream and lose Elena all over again.

“Give me a minute,” she choked, disentangling to get up and head to the downstairs bathroom.

Caroline washed her face with cold water and washed out the taste of her numb mouth. She ran wet hands through her hair and shut her eyes, thinking. It wasn’t a big deal, but she just really didn’t think it was something he needed to know. She turned the taps off, hit the light, and padded back down to the den. She didn't want to be alone.

Klaus tilted his head at her, maybe a little too reminiscent of his wolf form. It was all he did, and she could scent that he was curious, but mostly… apple pie? Like the way her gran had smelled, in her little yellow kitchen. A memory of her grazed knee, and her gran’s pitched brow -… Concern.

Klaus’ concern smelled like her gran’s kitchen. Huh.

This guy... he was The Big Bad Wolf himself. And he was genuinely worried about her tender feelings?

After seeing how cruel he could be, it was… a little confusing.

“Alright, love?”

He didn't look anywhere but her face, which she found surprising when her camisole was so low and her shorts were really short. That look held the weight of so much time and experience, and it was honed solely on her.

"Yeah. I’m – I’m sorry," she said, but wasn't sure why. When he didn't say anything to that, she took a step back. "I didn’t – I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I was on my phone,” he promised her.

“Oh.” She swallowed. “I- uh, I'm just - gonna go to my room."

"If you like," he said. "Do you want a drink before you go?"

"I don't drink," she said hastily. She cast her eyes to the floor. "Not - medicinally."

"Something warm, then?" He rolled up easily onto his feet and paced toward her with literally no sound. It was super unnerving. Caroline lowered her eyes to his bare feet, and flinched when he touched the space under her chin. "Won't you look at me, love?"

"I just want to go back to bed," she told the middle of his chest.

His hand smoothed along her jaw, thumb rolling over the sweat sticky swell of her cheek.

"And now you're frightened of me again," he murmured. "I wouldn't take what you weren't willing to give. If you don't want to tell me the dream, I won't force it out of you."

She believed him. But she still didn't really trust him.

He could say what he liked of that exact moment, but would it change in a minute? Flip with his temper?

"Do you want a shot to soothe your nerves?" he asked her again.

"No," she grumbled. She folded her arms over her belly. "Thank you."

He made a low, inquisitive noise.

"Well I'll have yours then."

"Why?" she muttered. "Do your nerves need soothing?"

"After what you just put me through?" he said, strangled. "Yes, I bloody well deserve a drink."

“I didn’t mean to make you – upset,” she tried. “Make you smell, or feel… any of that.”

"You will learn how to control to scent you give," he told her. "Not long now."

Nodding, she rubbed her eyes. It didn’t feel fair that she couldn’t look at him again. She knew it was something he hated, and she knew that it was no fault of his that there was a clump of fear, like a wad of hair, clogging the back of her throat.

"Maybe one shot?" Her smile was timid as she managed eye contact with him. “Can’t hurt, right?”

He nodded with a small twist of his mouth in the mere mockery of a smile ghosting his lips, and disappeared from sight. He came back with something amber colored in a small glass. They each took a seat on the bottom of the staircase and knocked back the booze. She scrunched her face at the burn, watching the way he observed her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm just going to go to bed."

But when she thought about leaving the den, and leaving him… she didn’t move an inch. Just stared at the little glass in her hands, rolling it between each palm.

"Was the dream about me?" he murmured.

“No,” she said quickly. “No it wasn’t.”

“Oh.” He watched her face so passively. She had no idea what was going on in his head, but hers was a mess.

She wanted to talk, but what would she say? What could she say? She decided on the most pressing thing in her mind.

"You can't read my mind, right? When I'm sleeping?"

He shook his head. How alarming that he wasn't saying anything. She shifted against the back of the stair and took in a deep breath to try and get a grip on getting up and walking away, but… something about that just wasn’t a thing that she actually wanted to happen.

"Is it something I can fix?" he prompted.

She _squirmed. _

If she asked him to compel her to remember what had happened, would she? Better yet – would she want to know what was inside that memory? Would she see something awful – see her tiny friend being drained alive by a vampire? Or would she see herself leaving Elena to die, and selfishly running inside the house?

Her eyes were flitting to every available surface, and she was scrunching her hands into fists on her lap, and there was literal sweat beading on her lower back from nerves. She tilted her hips to try and get more comfortable and that was when he dropped the staring to the crotch of her shorts. Just for a second, but he did it. She swallowed, and balled up her hands.

"It was just a dream," she said, strained.

"Even so. I would like to make you feel better," he said softly. "Is there some way I can?"

She shrugged.

He never touched her, but she was ready for it. Wondering why he wasn’t, actually. Her heart was beating so fast that she was a little embarrassed by it. Heat crept up her neck, and she swallowed against a dry mouth.

"Am-?" she cleared her throat. "Am I in trouble?"

"For a dream?"

She felt a bead of sweat break on her forehead, and flexed her toes on the floor.

"No," she said, too quickly. Even she thought she sounded guilty. "It’s nothing. I want to go to bed now."

"Is that the truth?"

"I mean, I might not sleep."

"Where do you want to go?" his voice was low, gentle, and it made the hair on her neck stand up, but she wasn't sure why. "Your bed, or our den?"

_Our den._

"It's up to you," she blurted.

He stepped back, eyebrows lifted.

"It isn't," he said with an unhurried air. "You're convinced you cannot tell me no. But I've given you the option."

"It's up to you," she repeated, and fiddled with the hem of her camisole. “You wanted den time…”

"Den time is not always sleeping, and we’ve done more today than we have all week," he informed her. "Tell me what you want."

She didn't move for a long second, watching him watch her. He was not going to budge on this. She could tell by the almost otherworldly calm he'd slipped into. It was honestly so ... so relieving.

She didn't want to be alone.

"If-?" she sank into her makeshift seat, willing it to swallow her whole. "Won't it upset Isaac, the smell in there?"

"He'll get over it." Shrugging, he tucked one hand in his pocket. "Shall I walk you upstairs?"

Choices, choices.

Should she obey the instinct to be close to him, or did she listen to her racing thoughts, and leave well enough alone? It felt – intimate. Different, somehow, to any other time. Like needing his proximity to soothe this was somehow carrying a meaning behind it, but she had no idea what that might be. And choosing it to comfort her was something entirely new to analyze.

But he wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that. And the feel of his skin would do wonders for her racing heart. She knew what she wanted, but couldn’t speak until she was standing to equal him.

"I want the den," she whispered.

"Then come," he murmured. "I will lay with you there. However you like."

"Spoon me?" she blurted. “Be close to me.”

Yellow eyes glowed faintly in the dim light from what little moon remained in the sky. He bowed his head, turning to open the way for her to stride quickly back to their denspace.

His shadow felt like a physical weight on her back, but it certainly wasn’t heinous. The fact that the human could gracefully climb into the pile of pillows and blankets was something of a surprise. Immediately turning onto the side facing the wall of shuttered windows seemed safest, so he could organize himself how he liked and he wouldn't see her flushed face.

And it was a pretty solid plan, honestly, to hide that way; serve the instinct to be close, and the high brain functions damning her for giving in. 

But then he got in the blankets behind her, and wrapped his arm around her waist, settling his entire body behind hers in a perfect big spoon. She went loose all over, every muscle going lax with the heat of him soaking into her skin. It made her so at ease she felt like she was finally able to take an entire lungful of air, and shut her eyes to be ready for sleep.

But then her traitor body started to twitch.

The back of her thigh on his leg, one ass cheek in the cradle of his hips, her hands and biceps. She tried to inconspicuously tangle their fingers - like somehow he wouldn't notice? He spread his own and let hers slot neatly between. The weight of his arm burned brand, resting on the dip of her waist. Pulling it in tighter, she nursed her backside more completely in the cradle of his hips, letting out a soft noise that she would never wilfully describe as a purr.

At the very first shift of him behind her, on the other hand, she startled. Shooting up from where she had been so comfortable, and spinning on her knees to look at him with an approximation of annoyance. Whatever she gave off in her scent, he understood the particular fear associated with it.

"Nothing nefarious is going to happen between us tonight," he promised her. "Not everything is about sex, you know."

"No, I don't know," she retorted under her breath. "Because every time you touch me we end up doing something -... raunchy."

"It's confusing," he said softly. "That we are the way we are. But I never meant that to be all I was to you. I'm your Alpha, Caroline. I should be able to remedy your fears without stirring up more of them."

“I’m not scared of you,” she lied. “And it's just a nightmare."

"A nightmare about what?"

“Just – stuff from when I was a kid. It’s not about you. It’s fine. Can I please just try to go to sleep now?”

He murmured an agreement, eyebrow lifting when she replaced herself exactly where she had been before. Once their fingers were linked and he was breathing steadily over the back of her neck, she felt better.

Dozing, she felt her ass start to move up and down – felt him react. The barest nuzzle of his nose against her ear made every hair on her body stand on end, a low hum of appreciation pulled from her throat when she scented the change in their chemistry. She felt his thumb caress the side of her belly, causing a completely unassisted, needy little _mewl_ to erupt from her throat.

She clapped a hand over it, also catching the: "Sorry!" as it blurted out of her.

Feeling a little more than hot and certainly bothered, she focused on trying to calm down. Did she want to cuddle him or not?

Yes? No? Yes?

"Klaus?"

"Yes, love?"

"Klaus," she said again, more urgently, her heart banging so hard she felt it in her toes. "I just - I don't know - can you just-?"

"Tell me," he said slowly. "Tell me what you want me to do. What would put you at ease? You said you wanted me to spoon you, but you aren't settled. Should I go?"

_No._

“Don’t you fucking move,” she hissed between her teeth.

Knowing he was hardening and heavy at the crease of her ass only made her start to roll against it, wanting to get the full measure of him. She hand was in a claw on his forearm, keeping it anchored there. She caught her breath when he pressed a long kiss behind her ear, stretching out her neck to give him more room with a soft groan.

"Tell me your dream," he suggested.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Not- not nothing, nothing," she amended. Her heart was hammering. "I-... it's private."

"Private?" He rubbed his stubble on her neck and she cringed from the pleasant prickle of it, arching her back to catch him on the full with her ass. He hummed, pleased by it, and she felt the noise tremble down into her belly, spreading heat into her crotch.

"Yeah, it's private," she repeated dumbly, her brain struggling to make words.

She was so _squirmy_, and he was so warm, and everything was just... so, so nice. When he pressed his mouth to the back of her neck, and he was hard, and he wanted her, how could she not let out a tiny moan?

"Is it of your father?" he murmured.

She stopped moving, breath catching in her lungs.

"Way to kill the mood," she whispered.

"You were terrified. I imagine only family can affect a heart like that." A butterfly kiss landed on the shell of her ear. “I could hunt and kill him, if you like.”

"No. It – it wasn’t even about my dad. It's nothing," she said again. "I- I don't - I don't know what we're doing."

"We aren't doing anything," he replied patiently.

"You're-!" She shut her eyes. She couldn't make herself say what was happening between them. How she could feel sticky mess inside her underwear and his hard cock nursed at her backside. She was (sorta-technically) a virgin, not an idiot.

“That was your lead, I was following,” he pointed out. “_We_ did nothing. _You_ were getting yourself worked up.”

“I don’t know why,” she stressed.

"You've had a stressful sleep," he said easily. "Being near to your Alpha will make you feel safe. You're likely interpreting that in a way that's physical. It doesn’t have to be."

She knew it wasn't helping, being cuddled and the gentle lull of his voice, but still she rubbed against him because god, it just felt like such a rush. There was only the teeeeeniest little voice in her head that said maybe she should stop.

Everything else was gung-ho on rubbing off on the sleepy, toasty warm Alpha.

She mewled when he pressed another kiss to the side of her neck, then felt a rush of shame for it, covering her mouth with her hands.

"I _should_ go," she groaned.

"You can, if you want to. If you stand up, I won't stop you. For what it's worth, I just want to be near to you." He pressed his lips to the spot behind her ear. "And I want you to tell me what you dreamt of, that had you crying like that."

"Nothing," she protested breathily.

"No?" he said softly. "Not anything I might find interesting?"

"It's not important."

"Nothing about someone named Elena?"

She sucked in a sharp breath. Damnit. She'd been talking.

"_No_!"

"Ah, well. I must be mistaken."

She could've wept in frustration. She was turned on and embarrassed, ears ringing from her memories and the possibility of what had actually happened. Her mouth opened to ask if he could override a previous compulsion, but what came out was a tearful:

"You aren't helping when you make me feel like this."

"Like what, love?"

"Like this!" She took his hand from her waist - it went without so much as struggle - and cupped it between her legs. His fingers pressed up into her through the material to feel it soak the fabric, and he released a shuddering sigh by her ear.

"Did I do that to you?" he murmured.

She groaned, thighs trembling as they locked down on his hand, moving restlessly against his palm. It was only the tiniest bit of added friction, but it was enough. She made such a pathetic noise when he took his hand away, clamping onto his wrist with desperate hands, pressing it back down to where she could rub against it.

"If you want me to play, sweetheart," he said, directly into her ear. "You must say so."

The words caught in her throat.

"Yes," she said, rushed.

"Tell me what you want," he urged.

"Play," she managed to get out.

"Tell me how."

She growled at him over her shoulder, only to get a much louder one back that made her cringe from him. His demanded respect, demanded she obey the verbal command. He'd asked her to tell him and she had not. She turned her face toward him and blurted his name like a prayer.

"You're gorgeous when you let me see you so unguarded," he said against her mouth. He rubbed his fingers in a circle just where she needed it, maddeningly soft pressure applied to rough fabric. "Will you let me make you feel better?"

“Did you-?” she panted. “Do this – with Isaac?”

“I did, as a matter of fact,” he said gently. “He had a number of awful dreams I distracted him from with my hands, and mouth. Is that something you would be interested in?”

"Yes," she stressed. She rolled onto her back and let her legs fall open. "Yes. Distract. Please."

"I will," he murmured, and kissed her cheek. "When you tell me what you want me to do."

"Touch me," she pleaded.

"I am touching you."

She shut her eyes, tipped her head back, her whimper muted by the lack of air she felt she was breathing. She took his hand, and with the other lifted the elastic hem of her shorts, dragging the heavy weight down past the line of her panties, straight to her slippery slit.

He hummed when his fingers first pressed against the wetness, though the touch was still far too light to make much a difference. She tilted her hips up but he withdrew, regardless of how she pushed down on his hand.

"Please," she whispered.

"Tell me how," he said against her cheek.

"You know what I want," she said breathlessly. "Just _touch_ me."

"I'll know what you want, when you tell me how you want it," he promised her. He dug his arm underneath her neck and cradled the back of her head, his fingertips consoling as they ran through her hair. "No more guessing. No more assuming. There is no more room for mistakes.”

“Touch me,” she pleaded. “Klaus, touch me.”

“I want you to tell me, explicitly, everything you want. I'm your slave, Caroline.” Then, into her ear: “Give me your command."

She didn't know what to say. She was so close to being part of the pack, and her brain was just a total mess.

"If you truly cannot, then just lay with me. We needn't do anything. You only need to tell me no, and I won't want for it. Here." He took his hand out of her panties and laid it on one of the hands in a ball on his chest. Dragging her knuckles to his lips, he graced each finger with a short kiss; he took it down, pressing against the weight of him in his pants. He'd started to go soft, and continued to do so, even when she molded her palm around him. "You see? We can stop. But you must say what you want."

She was kind of fascinated by dicks. She'd only ever known Tyler's. She swallowed down her hard breathing, and felt his cock in his hand.

It gave her a sense of power to hold him there. It was so soft, though. It was so vulnerable. She sort of, moved around it, distinguished where the soft hilt of him was and the rasp of hair from his balls began. No knot had started inflating, yet.

She licked her lip and looked up with big eyes at his parted lip, then his own unblinking gaze. He cupped her face and inclined his head just a touch.

"Can I touch you there?" she whispered.

"Yes, love," he murmured against her mouth. "If you'd like."

"I want to..." She slid her hand against his flat stomach, feeling the rise of his hip against her hands. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "If you're comfortable."

She agreed with a strangled hum, and found his cock velvety smooth to touch. The soft version of it fit comfortably in her palm and she could touch her fingers around the base, giving an experimental pull.

"Your pants are in my way," she muttered, and he reached down to shove them down.

She could smell him. It was uniquely his smell, and earthy somehow. He started to fill her hand the more she worked him, but something was missing. It was dry. He was getting hard, but he wasn't leaking anything yet.

"I think..." she said slowly.

"Yes, love?"

"Can I put you in my mouth?"

He swallowed audibly.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said tentatively.

She shifted and inched down, eyes on the prize.

"Why?" she pressed a close lipped kiss to the center of his chest.

"You're rushing," he told her. "To distract _me_."

Yes. And no.

His shirt gave way to her pushing hands, shifting it up so that she could suck the ridge of one of his rib bones while he stripped it off. He moved onto his back, and she swirled her tongue over the line of his abdomen, sucking a mark onto the tender flesh before daring to nip it with her teeth.

"_Caroline_," he warned.

"What?" she murmured, moving his pants down further on his legs, her careful fingers sliding up along his thigh to caress his heavy ballsack.

"Teeth are out of bounds," he said firmly. "Do _not_ bite me."

She shivered. She still had the urge in her very soul to lay her teeth into him.

"Sorry," she said softly. She ran the velvet skin up over her cheek, dragging the head against her lip. "God, why do you smell so good? Why do I want you like this?"

"Because you belong as one, with me," he told her in a rumble, the pleased Alpha noise making her head spin.

She ducked her head to press her mouth against the base of his stiff prick, feeling the pulse of his knot as it inflated, ready to impregnate someone. She lapped a long line up the underside, all the way to the top, then put him in her mouth.

He was longer than Tyler, and that made things a little difficult at first. She had to figure out where to maneuver her tongue, and how deep it could go before nearly tripping the still learning gag reflex. She knew from many, many magazines to breathe through her nose, but doing it with a mouthful was still hard, especially on her angle.

She felt his fingers gather her hair and looked up at him with earnest eyes. His gaze was golden to mark his wolf, barely shuttered by his lashes. He had a lot of colour in his cheeks, and his mouth seemed redder, fuller.

She bobbed her head a little and felt his fingers scrape pleasantly across her scalp, giving her goosebumps right down her spine. She arched her back, the hand bracing his thigh squeezing to maintain balance. The other hand started to slide down, between her body and the bedding. She slipped her own hand inside her underwear and started to rub in tandem with her neat sucking.

She had to pull off and lap at the sides of it, first of all to catch her breath, then secondly to make it nice and slick for her mouth to slide up and down properly. She teased the head with her lips and explored every inch of him, getting up on her knees to try and take it to the back of her throat. It didn't work at first, and she shut her eyes.

"Easy," he murmured.

She tried again and coughed.

"Easy, love," he urged her up by the hair, hands framing her face. "Don't push. You're wonderful as is."

"I want to take it all," she whispered. Her jaw hurt. She wanted him to come in her mouth.

"No," he said, and tilted his head at her disappearing fingers, moving still within the confines of her panties.

"What?" she stopped, took her hand out. "Should I stop?"

"I'd prefer to assist," he cooed.

"I want you to finish first," she protested.

"Not likely to ever happen," he said, almost kindly. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "Will you let me kiss you now?"

"After-?" she blanched. "I just-? I just had your-? Won't you taste it?"

"Yes," he said. "And I'll taste you."

He steered her up to lay on top of him, sucking in a huge breath before he pressed his lips to hers.

She groaned into the kiss, eyes slipping shut. The way his lips moved was skillful and there was absolutely no way he didn't pick her as a novice. Feeling shy, Caroline broke away to hide under his chin, hands curled against his bare skin.

He held her tightly, hands rubbing up and down her back, lips pressed to the top of her head. He took her fingers - the ones that had been dipped into her panties, swirling around on her clit, and purred in his chest. He sucked them all at once, the sound obscene, reaching down with his free hand to wrap it around himself.

"Don't you want me to do it?" she whispered.

He shook his head, tongue tracing around her digits, one hand braced against her back while he worked himself over with the other.

She watched his mouth move, spreading her knees to rock against his thigh, rolling her hips in circles that began to become jerkier and gained speed.

He let her fingers slide from his lips to go back south, needing just a little more stimulus to get herself there. She was mounting that high, beginning to buck wildly. She didn't even think when she put her teeth into his shoulder, biting roughly - but not enough to break skin.

He _growled_, and flipped them, eyes flashing in warning.

“I told you,” he said darkly. “_Not_, to bite me.”

“So sorry, Alpha,” she panted. She wrapped the wet fingers around his cock and began to jerk it, lifting her chin in challenge. “I won’t do it again.”

He bared his teeth and settled his leg between her thighs for her to rub against, arching her back to get a deeper thrust.

“You had really better not.”

The expanse of her neck was covered by his mouth, and the quick nip of sharp teeth scraping her sensitive skin had her choking on a swear. She came unexpectedly, gasping, making soft noises as her body curled forward, her forehead pressing into his shoulder. She clawed mindlessly at his back, exhaling short, breathy noises.

He bowed over her and waited for her to finish, pressing his mouth to the scratch on her throat left by his fang. He worked up to kiss her lazy mouth, and she dug her fingers into his hair, humming in contentment as her heart continued to pump an inordinate amount of blood to everywhere necessary.

She only broke the kiss because she needed air, and when she did he wasted no time in getting his mouth on her throat, down to her heaving chest. Although she was clothed, he rubbed prickly stubble against the material and moved down, situating his nose right up against her still throbbing sex.

She, dazed, left her hands in his hair, trying to catch her breath. His nose buried right up against her and knocked against her clit, making her cry out.

"Sensitive-!" she warned.

"Smells good," he murmured into the space between her thighs.

"Hey," she said, because it sorta sounded like he wasn't listening, there. "That is _very_ sensitive."

He butted into it again and her thighs made to close around his ears, but for the hand he clamped on the inside of one knee to keep it open. He stuck out a broad tongue and swiped it up through her shorts, making her dig a heel into the bed to try and escape it.

He wrapped that arm under her thigh to hold her still, and nuzzled up against her damp shorts again.

"Klaus," she said, trying to push his head as gently as she could. "I'm really - you - it's very -"

"Sensitive," he said, pupils completely blown. "Yes. I heard."

She wished she could shut her legs to his eyes. His hand was still moving below him, but his attention was honed purely on her crotch.

Feeling a little more daring than she had that morning, she let his hair go to move aside the leg hole and reveal her cotton panties to him. He swallowed audibly, and left his mouth open to breathe.

"I want to taste you," he said instantly. "Let me just have one taste." 

It was doing things to her, to watch him ask for something he could just take. She reached down and touched his hair, thumb sliding through the sweat beginning to bead on his brow.

"I could make you come again," he purred.

"With only one taste?" she teased.

His grin, directed up at her from between her legs, was devilish. She traced the side of his face, then dropped her hand back onto her shorts, toying with the edge of the leg hole.

"Why did I come when you scratched me?" she asked softly.

"I was establishing dominance."

"Is that why I can't bite you?"

"Yes."

"Why do I want to bite you?"

"Because you," he said, and leaned forward, nose brushing the crease of her thigh. "Are trying to establish yourself as the boss."

Yeah, that sounded about her speed.

"Does it make you mad?"

"It makes me need to reassert myself as your Alpha," he murmured. "Which is why you shouldn't use your teeth on me. I won't be able to stop how rough I become with you until you bend your will to mine."

"What happens if I like rough?"

He flicked his eyes up at her.

"Then we have far more in common than you know," he confessed.

She stroked the side of his scratchy face with her damp fingers, and saw him chase them with his mouth. She let him suck on one before withdrawing it, and bringing it back to her shorts.

What started as peeling them off in a sexy way was ended abruptly with Klaus ripping the seams with a decisive yank and throwing the offensive material over his shoulder.

"_Hey_," she said flatly. "I liked those."

"I'll buy you more," he growled, and it made her hips tilt in invitation at him, the sound of it pleased. He bent his head with a deep inhale right above the seam of her, and shut his eyes. "In every colour. So I can rip them all off of you again, and again, and again..."

_Wow. Sounds like someone's keen,_ darted through her head. _Am I okay with this?_

She wet her bottom lip, and dug her fingers into the bedding on either side of her hips.

Oooh, she _was_ okay with this. She was more than okay with this. But… what exactly was _this_?

"Klaus?"

He looked up at her, halting, nothing frustrated about him. Waiting for her words, he simply disengaged and made no sudden movements.

“What do you want to do?” she asked softly.

In reply, he pressed his open mouth against the inside of her thigh, sucking hard. It made her jolt, but she watched a red mark be left, and his easy roll up onto his knees. He held her leg open with his free hand, and pumped the length with the other, staring at her crotch.

"I want you to wear it," he admitted. He looked at her from beneath his lashes, almost sheepish. "I want you to soak in it. Rub it into your skin. I want you to smell like me."

"Are you scent marking me?"

"Yes," he said, swallowing thickly. "May I?"

"You can," she said. "But I want a shower after."

"Then I'll shower you after," he promised, and bent down to suck the pout right off her mouth. She could feel him moving, the way he was held above her, pumping himself with his free hand. "I'll do anything you ask of me."

Like in the woods, he took quite a while to blow. Even with her hands running up and down his back, and mouth sucking and kissing his throat and lips, he took a long time.

When he spilled, it seemed to be en masse; there was a pool on her belly that seared hot streaks when it rolled over her sides. She kissed the rumbling mouth and laid her head back down, feeling him settle in between her legs.

He laid out along her, heart banging like a drum above hers, and wuffed at the space behind her ear.

Feeling lethargic and content, she drew spirals on his back with her nail, and shut her eyes to the blissful quiet of her calmed mind. As far as distractions went, boy did Klaus know how to do them.


End file.
